Voyeristic Incubus
by Moira McDuff
Summary: A revised CH 18 is up! CH 19 SOON TO COME. A deliciously evil Harry has found his new favorite pastime and it's not Quidditch. A schoolboy grudge turns destructive. Little does he know the fate of the Wizarding World lies in his hands, rather, around
1. Default Chapter

Warning: This story contains ADULT THEMES! Definitely some smut, possibly some slash (m/m stuff) If this offends you, then BY GOD don't read it!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Anything good of this story belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Forewarning: I wrote this chapter while listening to Sting's "Ten Summoner's Tales" Mostly because I lust after Sting, and secondly the songs (so far) fit the mood I'm trying to portray. So, if you end up not liking this particular piece of prose, blame Sting. * evil grin *  
  
~*~  
  
Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not starting out well.  
  
The moving paintings weren't as amusing as they once had been; the Great Start of Term Feast didn't taste quite as delectable as years past; even his first glimpse of Hogwart's Quidditch field, which years before had sent his spirits soaring, failed to raise even an eyebrow.  
  
In a word, Harry was bored.  
  
As senseless as it seemed, considering his track record, Harry Potter no longer found Hogwarts to be at all interesting. No, wait, strike that. Harry Potter no longer found LIFE to be at all interesting.  
  
Sure, there was the ever-present threat on his life from You-Know-Who, but no one had seen hide nor hair of Voldemort since his last failed attempt on Harry's life 2 years ago. Some of the Wizarding community believes he's disappeared for good, others believe he's biding his time.  
  
"Whatever he's doing, I bloody well wish he'd get the hell on with it." Harry sighed, his breath fogging up his dormitory window. Lazily tracing the diamond panes of glass, he turned to see what time it was.  
  
1:35  
  
"Great." Harry turned back to his window, gazing onto the starlit fields below him. This had become a nightly habit. Sleep had always been a struggle, ever since he was a child. Knowing that the sooner he laid his head on his pillow to sleep, the sooner he'd have to face another day with the Dursleys. It was only when he came to Hogwarts that Harry ever had something good to wake up to.  
  
Now, even the joy of simply being amongst friends had somehow left him.  
  
1:36  
  
A tired, throaty laugh escaped him, causing the window to once again fog up. Harry turned to the occupied bed next to him. Ron Weasley lay there, softly snoring, his fiercely red hair giving him away. Harry chuckled, envious of his friend. * It's not like Ron's got an extremely exciting life, yet he can sleep easily enough. *  
  
As if on cue, Ron rolled over on his bed, his arm now hanging off the side. This caused Harry to laugh again, * So why am I having such a hard time? *  
  
Harry heaved himself off the stone floor and made his way to his own bed, quietly taking back the covers. 'No use in being awake AND uncomfortable,' Harry thought to himself as he slid between the cool covers. 'Maybe if I pretend to sleep-" he closed his eyes, and tried to think of nothing. Nothing. Nothing.  
  
Nothing  
  
Blackness  
  
"Mmmmmm, oh yeah."  
  
Harry's eyes flashed open again, staring straight up at the top of his canopy bed, and then slowly turning towards the groaning.  
  
One of Ron's less desirable traits, besides his obsession with Quidditch, was the fact that he tended to talk in his sleep.  
  
"Right there, oh, yes-"  
  
That's not quite accurate. Ron tended to give a play-by-play description of whatever raunchy dream he was having that particular night.  
  
"YES."  
  
Not that Harry minded. He found it amusing.  
  
Harry turned onto his side, curiously watching his friend play out, what sounded like, a particularly NICE dream. Ron was on his back, one knee up, and his right arm lightly bouncing with every "yes." A devilish grin spread on his face, Ron's hips were bucking ever-so-slightly.  
  
Mesmerized, Harry reached over and got his glasses. Sure, everyone's heard Ron dreaming, but it was a rare occasion to actually get to see him doing it.  
  
"MMmmmmph-"  
  
By the way Ron's lips suddenly pursed, Harry concluded that he must be kissing someone. Gods, he looked so cute that way! His nose all scrunched up, lips protruded, making soft little sucking noises. Harry could barely keep himself from laughing out loud, feeling pity for the poor girl he was kissing.  
  
Then, like a bolt, an overwhelming feeling of curiosity took hold. 'I wonder-'  
  
Harry slowly crept out of bed, and on all fours (as to not be seen), made his way over to Ron. Carefully, Harry put his mouth right next to Ron's ear. Barely breathing at this point, he whispered- "Ron."  
  
"Mmmmmphh,"  
  
"Ron."  
  
"Wha-"  
  
"Ron, who are you kissing?"  
  
-Silence-  
  
Not getting an answer, Harry moved in closer. Feeling his own breath, hot, bouncing back off Ron's cheek - he tried again.  
  
"Ron."  
  
"Mmmmm?"  
  
"Who are you kissing Ron?" Just then did Harry notice how raspy his voice had become.  
  
"Hr-"  
  
Harry smiled. He knew it! Ron was dreaming about Hermione. It had become painfully obvious throughout the years, just how much she really meant to him. Harry had just sat down on the floor, when Ron spoke again.  
  
"Hr- Harry"  
  
Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
-Silence-  
  
"Ron, who were you kissing?"  
  
Harry felt his pulse quickening. Had Ron just said what he thought he said?  
  
"Mmmmmmm, Harry-" A wicked smile spread across Ron's face.  
  
Oh Gods.  
  
Harry quickly scooted back to his own bed, clawing up under the covers. And for the next hour all he could do was stare up at the top of his bed. His heart was pounding, pounding loud enough (he was sure) to wake all of Hogwarts. Unable to hear the rest of Ron's dream, Harry's mind was racing. What did this mean? Surely, Ron just said "Harry" because he heard his voice. Surely, that was all. Nothing else.  
  
Convinced that was all it was, Harry turned over and tried to go to sleep.  
  
Doubts have a certain way of creeping into your mind, regardless of how loud you scream at them to go away. No matter how rigidly he would deny it, Harry was intrigued.  
  
Harry was more than intrigued, he was captivated.  
  
He needed to know more.  
  
Not wanting to risk waking Ron up with anymore whispering, Harry decided to find another way to get the truth. However, that would have to wait till tomorrow he thought as he yawned. And for the first time in a long time, Harry couldn't wait till morning.  
  
~*~  
  
Morning came faster than any morning before it. Harry opened his eyes to a brightly lit room, cheerfully colored in Gryffindor's maroon and gold. Immediately, his eyes darted to Ron's bed. Only a pile of sheets and blankets greeted him. 'Ron's already up- I must be late!' Springing out of bed, Harry grabbed his toothbrush and ran to the boys' lavatories. Muttering a quickshower spell between spits, Harry changed into his robes and ran down the steps and out of the Gryffindor common room.  
  
'I've got a lot to do today,' he cheerfully thought to himself as he jogged down the corridor.  
  
As he entered the Great Hall, Harry immediately spotted Ron at the Gryffindor table. Happily eating away at his breakfast, as usual. Hermione was sitting across from him, her nose in a book, as usual. Trying to be casual, Harry strode up and sat down next to his redheaded friend. Ron greeted him with his usual smile, mouth stuffed with scrambled eggs.  
  
"Morfng!"  
  
Only when he opened his mouth, did Harry realize that he had absolutely no idea what to say. Luckily, Hermione spoke for him.  
  
"Honestly, Ron," peeping out from behind her book, "You've got the manners of a wild boar."  
  
Swallowing hard, Ron just snickered. "You love it, you know it."  
  
'He has a really nice smile,' Harry thought off handedly. Realizing what he had just thought, Harry started laughing nervously, then quickly turned to his breakfast. 'Just act normal.'  
  
"So, mate, sleep well?"  
  
Harry, not thinking it was possible to choke on a single bite of toast, started coughing so loudly that the entire school turned to look at the commotion.  
  
"Watch it!" Ron pounded his back roughly.  
  
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione started to stand.  
  
Waving his hand to say he was fine, Harry grabbed the nearest glass and downed it. Across the room, he heard the Slytherins laughing. One particular laugh louder than the rest. Draco Malfoy was laughing till he was red in the face, pointing at him. Harry managed a scowl through his chokes.  
  
Regaining his composure, he swallowed hard and moved his plate away from him.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Hermione smiled and went back to her book. Chuckling, Ron poked him in the ribs. "That first bite's a doozy, you know."  
  
"No kidding." Harry laughed nervously. He decided that it would be best to wait until after breakfast to bring up anything.  
  
~*~  
  
They had Potions first, to all of their disgust. There was no way that Harry was going to risk talking to Ron there. Professor Snape already had it in for him; the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself after the "incident" at breakfast. Next was Professor Flitwick and charms, but Hermione had managed to squeeze in between Ron and Harry. No chance there. Finally it was lunchtime.  
  
"So, Ron." * don't think about his smile don't think about his smile *  
  
"Yeah?" Ron's attentions were deeply absorbed in the Monthly Quidditch magazine he was reading.  
  
Desperately hoping to find some way to bring the subject up, Harry decided to lie.  
  
"I had this unbelievably crazy dream last night." * yeah, about you *  
  
Ron, unphased, replied. "Yeah? Crazy?"  
  
"Yeah. Crazy." * this isn't working! *  
  
Ron nodded and went back to reading. Frustrated, Harry tried again.  
  
"I'm really curious as to what it means." He wasn't lying this time.  
  
Ron, still uninterested, started talking about Quidditch with Neville Longbottom.  
  
Harry was about to give up when Hermione interrupted.  
  
"Harry, if you're so interested, why don't you talk to Professor Trelawney? We have Divination next."  
  
Of course! It all seemed so simple. If anyone knew anything about dreams, kooky old Professor Trelawney would. Harry's face lit up a bit.  
  
"Thanks 'Mione."  
  
~*~  
  
As soon as they got to class, Harry's heart sank. There was Professor Trelawney, meditating above one of her many pillows, eyes rolled back into her head. There was no way in hell he was going to get any sound information from that woman. Disappointed, Harry sat down. Soon, the whole class had collected, and the lesson began.  
  
"Today we will be tapping into our minds eye." Professor Trelawney cooed.  
  
Hermione groaned, "We never do anything BUT tap into our minds' eye."  
  
Ron snickered.  
  
Pretending to not hear, Professor Trelawney continued. "Throughout the ages, man has continually searched for guidance. Often times, relying on his own subconscious to provide answers. Today class, we will learn to interpret dreams!"  
  
Hermione, enthusiastically nudging Harry, nodded towards Professor Trelawney and whispered, "See, I told you."  
  
"Does our Harry Potter have a dream he wishes interpreted?" Unbeknown to Harry, Professor Trelawney had seen Hermione.  
  
Stammering, Harry sputtered, "No. No, not really, but thank-"  
  
"Yes, you do. I saw in a vision that you would be helping us today, young Mr. Potter." Professor Trelawney had taken his hands and now was leading him to the front of the class. Harry's heart had stopped by this time, and a thin layer of sweat had formed at his brow. Placing him on one of her pillows, which then levitated, Professor Trelawney stood behind Harry and began rubbing his temples, softly humming all the while.  
  
"Listen, Professor Trelawn-"  
  
"Silence! I am seeing your dream."  
  
The hairs on the back of Harry's neck suddenly stood on end. Could she really see what he was thinking? Surely not. When has she been right before? His pulse had started to calm down when she spoke.  
  
"I see - you. You're - curious - about a friend."  
  
Harry's eyes shot open, and instinctively looked at Ron, who was turning a light shade of pink. Did he know? HE couldn't know! How did SHE know?? She never knows anything!!  
  
* oh no oh no oh no oh no not here, not here in front of everyone *  
  
"This friend - is - male. He's hiding something."  
  
* NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO *  
  
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Trying his best to sway Professor Trelawney from seeing any more. A single bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.  
  
"I see-"  
  
Harry opened his eyes a crack. All he could see was Ron. Eyes wide, slightly leaning over his desk. Was that a look of curiosity on his face? Suddenly, Ron's eyes met his, and an electric shock bolted up his spine.  
  
"Nothing! I see nothing. I've lost it."  
  
Harry let out a sigh of relief as his pillow floated back to the floor.  
  
"I've strained what little energy I had, I can carry on no longer. Class dismissed!"  
  
The class erupted into a joyful buzzing as Harry stood up. His entire back was covered in sweat. * thank the Gods for these robes * he thought. Ron had already gotten out of class, but Hermione was still waiting for him. Frowning, Harry went to join her, but had a second thought. * maybe *  
  
"I'll be right there 'Mione."  
  
Harry made his way back to Professor Trelawney, who by this time was slumped over a pile of rather large pillows.  
  
"Excuse me, Professor Trelawney?"  
  
Exasperated, she turned to him. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"  
  
"I was wondering if there would be any way, to, um, maybe do some research - about dreams?"  
  
Harry started fidgeting. What good would research do him? He's not the one who had the dream anyway!  
  
"Research?"  
  
"Yes, I guess." * stop obsessing over this! *  
  
She turned to a large chest behind her, opened it, and began looking for something.  
  
Silently, Harry was screaming at himself to leave. This is stupid. It's only Ron. Why am I going to all these lengths to find out something I don't really want to know! Harry would've gone on cursing himself forever, had Professor Trelawney not held up an ornate charm in front of his face.  
  
"Here, Mr. Potter."  
  
Before him dangled an amulet like none he had ever seen before. (Not that he had seen that many amulets, but none as beautiful as this.) Gold and silver weaved together to form an orb-like basket; within it floated a sapphire-like blue marble.  
  
"This is Aromankin's Amulet. Wear it before you go to sleep, and think of whom or what it is that troubles you. Through its power, you will be able to reconcile your dreams."  
  
Not understanding a word of what she had said, Harry took the amulet. It was so light in his hand; he almost couldn't feel it at all. Looking up to thank her, Harry found that he had waited too long. Professor Trelawney was already asleep again.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry was fidgeting. Pacing around his room at such an early hour - he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and laughed. 'Funny,' he thought to himself. 'Just yesterday I was pacing because I couldn't sleep. Now, I can't wait to get tired.' He looked at the clock.  
  
7:48  
  
'Damn, too early.'  
  
If Harry tried to go to sleep now, everyone would know that something was up. Harry was on his way to the common room when Ron entered. His face was pale, even paler than usual, and his eyes looked as if they were about to bug out of his head.  
  
"Ron? What's the matter?"  
  
Ron couldn't make eye contact with Harry; his gaze was to the floor. "Harry, about your dream-"  
  
Heart racing, Harry answered as calmly as he could. "Yeah?"  
  
"What did you dream about?" Ron's voice had suddenly gone to a hush; Harry could barely hear him.  
  
What to do? Now he had the amulet, so there would be no real use in bringing it up again, but the curiosity of the situation was getting the better hold of him. Harry was mulling over what to say when his mouth answered for him.  
  
"You."  
  
If anyone had entered the room at that precise moment, it would've been quite a picture. There stood two of the Gryffindor golden boys, slack jawed and staring at each other.  
  
"You had a dream about me?" Ron was shaking like a leaf! Never before had Harry seen him this nervous. An overwhelming urge to go him took hold of Harry, and he reached his arm out.  
  
"Ron-"  
  
But Ron was already out the door. He could hear the panicking footsteps rush down the stairs and out.  
  
"Oh no-" Harry returned to pacing once again, cursing at himself all the while. Why did you say that Harry? What did you expect him to do, run into your arms?? Do I want him to run into my arms?  
  
"Arrrgh." Harry sat on his bed with a frustrated huff. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the amulet - dangling it in front of his face.  
  
"No harm in trying it, I 'spose." Harry slid the necklace over his head, and immediately felt heavy. His eyes, his body, everything was heavy. Lying down on the bed, still in his robes, Harry thought of Ron. Ron and his fiercely red hair and freckled skin.  
  
Suddenly, the room was swirling, and Harry felt lighter. He was off the bed, the room spinning faster, faster, till there was nothing there.  
  
Harry found himself surrounded by darkness.  
  
"Where am I?" 


	2. Chapter 2

Warning: Language, Sex and Slash - oh my!  
  
Summary: After a very interesting evening with an unconscious Ron, Harry is determined to find out what's really going on in that red-head's mind. By whatever means necessary. After all, the ends justify the means, right?  
  
A/N: Anything REMOTELY good of this story doesn't belong to me.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry suddenly felt like he was swimming; his body was weightless and he could move by propelling himself, but there was no water. In its place was void. Blackness. Not warm, not cold, just nothing.  
  
Instantly, Harry felt that he should be scared - but he wasn't. There was something familiar about this particular place, this abyss. Checking to see if his eyes were really open, Harry blinked. Yep, there was nothing - but it was a visible nothing. 'Is there such a thing as a visible nothing?' Harry pondered, but his thought was interrupted by a sudden waft of smell.  
  
An aroma.  
  
So familiar - he had smelled it before, but where? He surged himself forward, following the scent through the blackness. It was getting stronger - 'where do I know this from?' - stronger - 'it almost smells like- ' THE BURROW!  
  
Instantly, the recognition hit Harry, and he was overpowered by it. The smell of good things in the oven, old wood, dust and sunshine all at once. The aroma comforted him.  
  
'But why would a void smell like the Bur-'  
  
Then it hit him. He was inside Ron's head! But why couldn't he see anything? Harry looked around, checking to see if he had missed anything.  
  
Have you ever tried to pinpoint something in utter blackness? Well, if you haven't, it's quite the difficult task. Harry was finding it difficult to know where to look. Just because he's facing a certain way, didn't mean that it was forward, backward, or anywhere else for that matter. Even trying to scan in one direction proved to be frustrating. No landmarks. No way to tell if he had looked there before.  
  
Just as he was about to give up, Harry spotted a faint glimmer of light, just to his left (or what he assumed was left.) Propelling himself in that direction, the glow began to get brighter. 'What an odd sensation, flying through someone's mind.' Harry thought offhandedly. Similar to flying on his Firebolt, but completely different at the same time. 'Ah.' Harry grinned, 'No wind.'  
  
Unexpectedly, Harry had arrived at the light. Whatever it was that he had expected, it certainly wasn't what he found. The light wasn't really a light, but many lights. Sort of like spotlights dimming and fading and brightening all at once. And they weren't the whitish yellow color he had once thought. They were kind of a greenish, blue. No, wait. Now they're kind of reddish. Wait, no. They're changing too fast!  
  
Trying to think logically, Harry attempted to make sense of the light show.  
  
'Say, the colors represent something. Maybe, emotions?' Harry's face contorted as he thought. 'So, if they represent emotions, and they're flickering on and off so fast and changing color all the time-'  
  
Again, clarity hit Harry like a ton of bricks.  
  
"He's confused!"  
  
He had to laugh at himself for that. Of course Ron was confused. He knew that to begin with.  
  
Starting to get disappointed, Harry tried to think of a way out. Professor Trelawney DID say that the amulet would help to get into the head of whomever he was dreaming about, but did she really mean it this literally?  
  
'This wasn't at all what I expected. Why can't I see Ron?'  
  
Then it hit him, again.  
  
"Because he's not asleep! He's not dreaming!"  
  
Suddenly Harry was happy that no one could see him right then, because he was sure he had the dumbest expression on his face. He couldn't help but think 'DUH'.  
  
Well, it was settled then. The amulet really doesn't do any good unless the other person is asleep as well. 'I'll have to come back later. Hope Ron's asleep soon.'  
  
Now, how to get out? He got there by putting the amulet on, so logically, if he took it off, he'd be home. Checking to see if he was still wearing the amulet, and he was, Harry pulled it off from around his neck.  
  
Instantly, the world was swimming again. The lights, the smell, everything was gone. He was falling.  
  
Falling  
  
Falling  
  
BAM!  
  
Harry hit his bed with a sudden, violent bounce. His head in a daze, Harry searched for his clock.  
  
7:52  
  
Had it only been a couple of minutes since he last looked? How was that possible? It felt as if he had been flying around that void for hours! 'Maybe time doesn't mean so much in your own head.' Harry thought.  
  
Sighing, Harry looked back at the clock.  
  
7:53  
  
It would still be a couple of hours till Ron went to sleep. No use waiting on my bed for him. Only after he had thought that did Harry realize how odd it sounded.  
  
Harry let out a small chuckle and headed downstairs.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione was sitting by the fire as Harry came clopping down the steps. Immersed in her book, she hadn't noticed him yet. Harry had opened his mouth to greet her, but was stopped short by the sudden realization that she looked amazing. Not that she had done something to her hair, or was wearing anything particularly eye-catching - no, it wasn't anything as obvious as that.  
  
Maybe it was the way the fire reflected upon her face, or the intense crease in her brow that caught his attention. Whatever it was, it had stopped Harry in his tracks.  
  
A sudden pop in the fire caused Hermione to jump, spilling sparks, and her books, all over the floor of the Gryffindor Common room.  
  
It was Harry's laugh that finally caught her attention. Groaning, Hermione rolled her eyes as she picked up her books.  
  
"That wasn't funny."  
  
"Yes, actually, it was." Harry made his way to the couch next to Hermione and sat down.  
  
"You haven't seen Ron anywhere, have you?"  
  
"Yes, actually, just a minute ago." Hermione looked towards the door. "He ran out of here in a huff."  
  
"That's what I thought." Harry sighed. "So, read anything good lately?"  
  
For the next 2 hours, Harry and Hermione sat and had an intellectual discussion. Philosophical almost. Much to both of their surprise. Harry hadn't much felt like talking to anyone for a while. Tonight was different somehow. Perhaps his latest obsession had revived a spark long past snuffed. Harry had become so absorbed listening to Hermione that he had almost forgotten about Ron. Almost, that is, until he appeared out of the shadows, still pale, but his eyes were back to their normal shape.  
  
'His emotions must have finally settled on one color.' Harry thought.  
  
" Ello Ron." Hermione turned and grinned at him.  
  
"Ello."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Ron nodded.  
  
The tension between them had gotten so thick that it was almost too difficult to speak.  
  
"Ron," Harry lowered his voice. "About earlier-"  
  
"Can we talk about it later? I really need to get some sleep." And with that, Ron made his way upstairs. Without, noticeably, saying goodnight to either Hermione or Harry.  
  
"What's eating him?" Hermione whispered to Harry.  
  
Softly smiling, Harry replied.  
  
"I think he's confused."  
  
"Confused about wot?" Hermione, now greatly intrigued, questioned.  
  
"Same thing we're all confused about, Mione," Harry stated, matter-of- factly.  
  
Now confused, "And what would that be, by chance?"  
  
Harry stayed silent for a moment, and then replied, "I'm about to find out."  
  
~*~  
  
Harry opened the door to their room as quietly as he could, hoping that he would find Ron asleep. He was. Not sleeping quite as "freely" as he was the night before, but asleep all the same.  
  
Quietly, Harry undressed and got into his pajama pants. They were an ugly light blue with darker blue stars pasted all over - not exactly his style, but quite comfortable. Sliding between the sheets, Harry took the amulet from its hiding place in his pocket and held it.  
  
'Do I really want to do this?'  
  
The answer came to him so quickly that he barely had time to ponder.  
  
He didn't think it -  
  
He felt it.  
  
'YES'  
  
In his gut he felt what he should do.  
  
Slowly, with anticipation guiding his fingers, he slipped the amulet around his neck that was now slick with sweat.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and thought of Ron.  
  
Again, the world began to swirl around him - his body weightless - swirling - swirling- swirling.  
  
Then, nothing.  
  
Harry opened his eyes, and took in his surroundings.  
  
If it were possible to be knocked backwards from the sheer shock, Harry would've been blown back a mile.  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
~*~ 


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: Okay, there hasn't been much of a reason for a warning yet, BUT NOW THERE IS! * chuckle * Girl on guy (eventually)/ guy on guy stuff. Sex, language, you name it.  
  
A/N: I don't own a damn thing - YET. (Ms. Rowling won't take my damn phone calls.) BWAHAHAHAHAHA  
  
Summary: With the help of Aromankin's Amulet, Harry is now able to transport himself in and out of the minds and dreams of whomever he wants. Hee hee hee. Right now, he's got Ron Weasley on the brain. Whatever will happen between the two of them??  
  
Side note: Sting was working for me the first two chapters, but now I need a lil' something else. SO - we've switched to Stone Temple Pilots. (the purple album to be precise) ENJOY! * grin *  
  
P.S. If anyone has not yet read anything by franthephoenix, get off yer lazy ass and do it! She's got my literary approval. =)  
  
~*~  
  
"Wow."  
  
The last time Harry had used the amulet, he had been transported into the void. Rather, the void that was Ron Weasley's mind. This time, however, there was no void.  
  
There was a Quidditch field.  
  
"Figures."  
  
Harry found himself in the sidelines of what looked to be the largest Quidditch field in the world. Millions of wizarding folk were cheering and carrying on, supporting the teams. The sound was deafening.  
  
Harry couldn't help but gawk at the sight. The stadium itself looked to be at least a mile long, and half a mile wide. Bright orange and black banners flew high in the sky, billowing out with the breeze. The game hadn't begun yet, but he could tell that it was about to.  
  
Just as he was thinking it, he spotted the first team fly out onto the field. Light blue flashes sped onto the grounds and into the air. Immediately, the crowd started jeering at them. He didn't recognize the team colors, but there was something familiar about the players.  
  
The teams captain, and keeper, Harry recognized immediately. Draco Malfoy. It was practically impossible not to recognize that blonde haired git. Straining his eyes, Harry managed to identify the rest of the team. Crabe and Goyle were the beaters; Professor Snape, Lucious Malfoy and Ron's brother Percy were the chasers. Harry did a double take. Percy? Why was he on the other team? He figured Ron had held a grudge against Percy for being a prefect, or a kiss ass at least.  
  
Harry was beaming by the time he had identified six of the seven-team members. He had to hand it to Ron; the boy certainly had a sense of humor. Excited to find out who the chaser was, Harry scanned the team. No - no - no - no - no - no - WHAT?  
  
Considering how many times Harry had looked in the mirror, seeing himself shouldn't have been such a shock. But there he was, and he was shocked. Flying higher than the rest of the team, there was Harry Potter, the team's seeker. Rather, there flew Ron Weasley's version of Harry Potter.  
  
Harry was speechless.  
  
A Quidditch team comprised solely of, what looked to be, Ron's enemies; why on earth was HE on the team? Harry's mind was racing. 'What the hell is going on? Did I piss him off? What the hell is going on? Does he hate me now? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?' Before Harry's questions could be answered, the second team flew out onto the field.  
  
Well, "TEAM" may not be the correct word.  
  
In a triumphant blast of trumpets, Ron Weasley flew out onto the Quidditch field, and was met by a joyous eruption from the crowds. Immediately, people started throwing confetti, waving banners, and screaming at the top of their lungs. "RON! RON! RON! RON!"  
  
"Oh brother."  
  
Harry scanned the field for the rest of the team, only to find there was no "rest of the team." Only Ron Weasley.  
  
Not able to hold back, Harry let out a semi-humorous scoff. 'HE's going to take on the entire team?? ALONE?'  
  
Smiling smugly, Harry sat back down. 'This I gotta see.'  
  
The two teams, er-rather, the one team and Ron, gathered at the center of the field as Madame Hooch carried out the trunk. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the site of Madame Hooch. The woman was wearing a bikini! And a scantily clad one at that.  
  
"Allright, I want a clean game, from both of you!" Harry could see Ron smiling smugly, as Madame Hooch winked at him. Turning his attentions to the other team, Harry could see that they were scared. No, they were more than scared.  
  
They were terrified.  
  
Himself, above all else. Harry watched himself in disbelief. He was shaking like a leaf.  
  
Mentally, Harry screamed at himself. "Don't be scared, you twit! Its just RON! You can take him!"  
  
The whistle blew, and the game began.  
  
Ron was gone, and in a flash, at the other end of the field chasing the Golden Snitch. Crabe and Goyle were trying to hit him with the Bludgers, but their aim was pathetic, and ended up hitting Draco in the head - knocking him unconscious. Even more ludicrous was Percy scoring with the Quaffle. Unfortunately, he had thrown the Quaffle through the wrong set of hoops and scored on himself. Infuriated, Professor Snape snatched the Quaffle from the obviously distraught Percy, and flew to the other end of the field. He flew within 3 feet of the hoops, threw the Quaffle, and missed. An obviously unfazed Lucious Malfoy just sat on his broom and trimmed his nails. Dumfounded, Harry tried to find himself.  
  
It wasn't too hard, considering he hadn't moved an inch since the game began. There he was, 30 feet in the air and clinging to his broom for dear life.  
  
Infuriated with himself, and Ron, Harry shouted.  
  
"MOVE!"  
  
And much to everyone's surprise, especially Ron, he did.  
  
As if awoken from a deep sleep, Harry's dream-version of himself began to give chase. Not willing to let his chance go by, Harry screamed again.  
  
"CATCH HIM!"  
  
Taking orders, Harry began to close the gap between he and Ron.  
  
Obviously outraged by the chain of events, Ron sped up, his hand closing on the Golden Snitch.  
  
"NO!" Harry yelled again, only to be met by an equally loud "YES!"  
  
Surprised, Harry tried to find the voice.  
  
It was Ron.  
  
Not the Ron that was playing Quidditch, but another Ron. He was sitting across the field from him, watching the game.  
  
Amazed, Harry tried to comprehend what he was seeing. There was Ron - and THERE was Ron. Harry looked around him, trying to see if there were any other Ron Weasley's hanging about.  
  
Looking back, Harry would've told himself to keep focused on the game; because just then, Ron caught the Snitch.  
  
Only two minutes and four seconds long, the game was over. Ron had won.  
  
Of course, the crowd deafened Harry with their cheers. Obviously pleased with himself, Ron held the Golden Snitch in his raised hand, presenting it to his fans. Slightly embarrassed, Harry wondered if that was what he looked like the first time he had caught it.  
  
Ron got back on his broom and begun circling the stadium; a victory lap. This only made the crowds scream louder. Beginning to think this had been a bad idea, Harry looked around for an exit. When all of a sudden, there was silence.  
  
He was alone.  
  
The once fully packed stadium had emptied, and there he sat, all alone. A small chill made its way up Harry's back and onto the nape of his neck. This was too weird.  
  
Movement from across the field caught his attention. He wasn't alone after all.  
  
Ron was getting up from his seat in the stands and was making his way onto the now empty field. Slowly, Harry rose from his seat and followed. He had gotten onto the field when he noticed a large oak door had appeared at the far end of the stadium.  
  
'That's a odd place for a door like that.' Harry thought offhandedly. Intricately carved and a beautiful mahogany color, it looked like it belonged in the Malfoy Mansion. Ron had made his way to the door, took out a key, unlocked it, and went through. As soon as the door had closed behind him, the landscape began to change. The once vibrant colors began to go gray. Nothing was quite solid. Suddenly, parts of the stadium began to disappear.  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
In a panic, Harry began to run across the field in the direction of the door. It looked a mile away. Each step he took only lengthened the distance, and his feet were sinking into the ground.  
  
"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit."  
  
Acting on instinct, Harry called out, "Accio Firebolt!" And immediately his broomstick was in his hand. Thanking the Gods that magic still worked here, Harry pulled himself out of the ground and onto the broom. Racing the rapidly depleting landscape, Harry made it to the door. Taking out his wand, Harry called out "Alohomora!" The door creaked open, and Harry slid in just as the ground disappeared.  
  
~*~  
  
The room Harry found himself in wasn't like any other room he had been in before. Beautiful tapestries hung on the stone walls, just between the large stained glass windows. Taking a closer look, the tapestries appeared to have Quidditch games being played on them, but from another time. Harry laughed inwardly, 'This is Ron's room.'  
  
One of the first things he noticed was that the room was round. Round, with a huge vaulted ceiling that went up at least forty feet. The ceiling itself, technically, wasn't a ceiling. It was a window, or a skylight to be precise. Dome in shape, the window had a million diamond panes, revealing the blue-black night sky above it.  
  
The room itself wasn't decorated in any particular style; in fact, there was nothing at all similar between its contents. The tapestries and windows were all old-world European, while the Armoire and chest were late Renaissance. And the desk and chairs were all something out of an Ethan Allen catalogue. Certainly, Ron was never the type to care about matching his outfit with his shoes, but the room seemed too mismatched. The only common theme, Harry thought, was that it's all-  
  
Of course. Everything in his room's expensive. This is a rich man's room.  
  
A sad smile crossed Harry's lips. It made sense; Ron's family has never owned anything valuable. They could never afford it.  
  
This is his dream room.  
  
Harry closed his eyes after he realized what he had thought. Again, he was having a "Duh" moment.  
  
His attention was drawn to the fireplace, whose logs had suddenly caught ablaze - illuminating the rest of the room. Directly across from the fire was Ron's bed.  
  
'Oh wow.'  
  
Harry never knew how good of a taste Ron had for the luxurious till just then. The bed, which was obviously the centerpiece of the room, was huge. King size, with four spiraling stone posts on each corner; the bed was a work of art. A beautiful emerald green comforter covered, what looked to be silk, black sheets. Harry counted eight pillows, all different tones of the emerald green comforter. It looked amazing. Instantly, Harry felt the urge to touch it.  
  
'Ron, I'm impressed.'  
  
He was about to walk over to the bed, when a noise outside the door startled him. Straining to hear, Harry made out some muffled voices.  
  
"Oh Ron! I can't believe it's you!"  
  
"That game was amazing!"  
  
"Would you sign this?"  
  
"Ladies! Ladies! Thank you. But I must be going."  
  
The door began to creak open.  
  
Desperate for Ron not to find him there, Harry hid behind the closest thing to him. Unfortunately, it was a plant - and not a very big plant at that. Too late to change his mind, Ron was already through the doorway. Besides, he thought, I can always take off the amulet if I have to.  
  
Ron strutted in and looked around the room, basking in the glory of it all. Pleased with himself, he went over to the bar and poured himself a drink. Picking up the brandy snifter, Ron rolled the liquid around in the glass before taking a sip. Harry had to stifle his laughter. 'All he needs now is a robe and a pipe.'  
  
He had spoke too soon; directly after thinking that, Ron opened his armoire and pulled out a forest green robe. Blushing, Harry diverted his eyes to the ground as Ron changed.  
  
'Why am I getting embarrassed? I see Ron change all the time!' This time was different somehow. Harry felt, dirty. Like he was spying.  
  
And what was worse, he liked it.  
  
Slowly, he raised his gaze and resumed his spying. Somehow, Ron seemed older than 16; not so much in his height, but in his face. The lines were deeper, his gaze was the same. More penetrating. Harry studied Ron as a collector would study a fine piece of art.  
  
'How have I never noticed his skin before?'  
  
Harry wanted to touch it.  
  
A sudden surge of heat raced through him and landed in his stomach, almost knocking him off balance. Luckily, a knock at the door covered the thud of Harry hitting the floor. Ron's attentions were to the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The chest beside him blocked Harry's view of the door, but he could hear it opening. Ron smiled.  
  
"I'm here. As requested."  
  
Harry recognized the voice, but couldn't quite place it. His pulse was quickening. 'Why am I getting so bloody excited? It's just Ron.' Harry tried to disregard the voice inside his head. 'You know who it is. You know.'  
  
The voice was moving closer. "You look good in green."  
  
Ron smiled again, "Thanks."  
  
"You'd look better in maroon, though."  
  
A shit-eating grin shot across Ron's face, "Shut the fuck up."  
  
The mystery man was laughing. "Just shut up?"  
  
By this point, Harry was no longer hidden by the plant - as he was completely leaning over it to see.  
  
Pure lust spread over Ron's face as he slowly answered, "Shut the fuck up and kiss me."  
  
The mystery man walked into view, and Harry's balance was again defeated, his deepest-darkest thoughts confirmed.  
  
It was him.  
  
Harry took Ron's face into his hands and kissed him, deeply. A low moan escaped from Ron's lips as he eagerly kissed back; their hands running through each other's hair, tugging lightly.  
  
'This is too much. Leave now.' Harry's prudish side pleaded with him. But Harry was too engrossed with the scene that was playing out in front of him to hear it.  
  
Ron led Harry back to the bed, still kissing, and pushed him down onto it. Leaning down, he pulled Harry's sweater off of him and tossed it aside. Running his hands down Harry's bare chest, Ron slowly undid his pants and slid them, and his boxers, off. Only when Harry was completely naked did Ron begin to undress himself.  
  
'You shouldn't be here!' was the only thing Harry could think. There was a knot in his stomach about the size of a Quaffle. Yet, he could not look away. The Quaffle went from his stomach to his groin when Ron undid his robe.  
  
'OH MY GOD.'  
  
There was Ron, stark-ass naked in front of him, and he was beautiful.  
  
His slender body outlined by the roaring fire behind him, looked amazing. Unearthly. God-like.  
  
The dream-version of Harry reached up and took Ron by the neck, bringing him down, and locking in a passionate embrace. Their hands were everywhere, pulling, scratching, and kneading. Harry heard himself groan as Ron's mouth went to his neck, softly biting down. He watched, mesmerized, half-aware of his own erection forming. Ron traced his tongue down Harry's chest - down - tracing the outline of his now contracting stomach muscles. He watched as Harry's eyes closed, his hands moving to Ron's head, pushing him downward.  
  
Harry couldn't help but want to be there. To BE him. To feel what he's feeling right now. Pangs of jealousy felt like daggers in Harry's stomach.  
  
Ron's mouth was dangerously close to Harry's erection, and he'd have to be blind AND deaf not to know it. Harry was pleading with him to continue, LOUDLY - and Ron was loving it. His grin giving him away.  
  
He watched as Ron's tongue slipped over the tip of Harry's erection, and was met by a throaty growl. Taking that as a yes, Ron moved in. His mouth closing over Harry in slow, solid strokes. Harry responded with a sound that made himself blush.  
  
'I wonder if that's what I really sound like.' Harry absurdly thought. He watched himself buck and flail around on the bed. 'I REALLY hope that's not what I look like.' He sounded close to orgasm when Ron stopped - and grinned.  
  
"You bitch."  
  
Ron laughed as Harry pounced on him, forcing his hands up over his head. Harry held him there for a minute - Ron struggling beneath him.  
  
Harry couldn't help but cheer himself on. 'He deserves that. Give it to him.'  
  
Holding both of Ron's wrists together with one hand, Harry moved his free hand down the side of his face - neck - ribcage - hip - and finally - Ron's eyes shot open and then immediately closed again, he was purring.  
  
Harry could see the other Harry's hand stroking Ron. Slowly at first, then speeding up, sending Ron into hysterics. "Oh Har ry-" Faster "Don't st op" Ron was on the verge when Harry's mouth closed over his, ferociously kissing him, muffling his screams.  
  
Never in his life did Harry ever believe that he would WANT to see Ron Weasley orgasm. But there he was, and Ron looked incredible. His back arched, one knee up, and his hips were bucking slightly.  
  
'Where have I seen that position before?' Harry grinned as he remembered. He couldn't help but feel proud of himself.  
  
The feeling of accomplishment left him as soon as he saw Ron's face. His red hair tussled, little beads of sweat on his brow, a quirky half-smile on his face. Ron was happy. The pangs of jealousy were back.  
  
Before he had a chance to figure out why, the room began to shake. Ron's head shot up.  
  
"What the-?"  
  
Suddenly, they were all falling. The room felt as if it were tumbling out into space. The bed lifted off the floor as Ron desperately held onto the post, his feet in the air.  
  
In a panic, Harry fumbled through his clothes to find the amulet; and in one swift movement, it was off him. ~Swirling~ ~Darkness~  
  
~*~  
  
In a violent bounce, he was back in his bed.  
  
And Ron was on the floor.  
  
It took him a moment to realize what had happened. Then he laughed. And laughed. And couldn't stop laughing.  
  
Ron had fallen out of bed.  
  
Harry made his way to the edge of the bed, about to wake him up, when he noticed something poking at his belly button.  
  
* oh god *  
  
Quickly covering himself with the blanket, Harry looked around to see if anyone had seen. Deciding it was best to leave Ron on the floor, Harry lay back down and began to take care of his little problem.  
  
Well, it's not little.  
  
The evening's events raced through his mind as he stroked himself. The fire - Ron's skin - his muscles contracting - the way his face contorted as he climaxed - Harry's face was flushed, his breath shallow and raspy, a fire building in his gut - oh, he was close. Then he thought of Ron sitting there, sweaty, his hair tussled with that damn half-grin of his - he could smell the desire - and it was too much. Harry felt a glorious rush as his eyes flashed open - the contractions - oh how he wanted him - the heat - waves of pleasure sent his body into spasms. He had to close his eyes to regain focus.  
  
It took a few minutes to regain awareness. His body relaxed and he laughed, softly. He looked over at Ron, who was still on the floor, his left leg perched up on the bed. Harry shook his head and smiled at his friend.  
  
Ron was smiling.  
  
~*~  
  
Sorry this chapter was so damn long!! I had a lot to get in, and I wasn't allowing myself to take too many shortcuts. Anyway, I hope you liked it! All forms of reviews would be appreciated!!! (If I don't get any, I'm not continuing the story!!) hee hee My little attempt at being threatening. 


	4. Chapter 4

Warning: Language, Sex, violence and Slash! OH MY!  
  
A/N: I don't own anything good of this story. (Ms. Rowling STILL isn't returning my calls.) * pout *  
  
Summary: Harry just had a mindfuck. Literally. Curious as to what was going on in Ron's head, Harry ventured into the redhead's dreams. Well, at least now he knows! But what will he do with this information?? Read on and find out.  
  
P.S. My humble thanks go out to Fran, my loyal reviewer. You're the one keepin' me writing girl! Thank you.  
  
~*~  
  
9:17  
  
Harry awoke the next morning with a lust for life he hadn't known in years; for the first time in a long time, he welcomed the morning. Still half- dazed, half-unbelieving the night before, Harry leaned over his bed to look for his friend.  
  
Ron was asleep and, thankfully, back on his bed. Harry sat and watched him, shaking his head all the while. 'Who knew he had such an imagination?' Ron answered him with a loud snore before rolling over. Refusing to let Ron, or anyone else, find him spying (again), Harry got up and took a very, very long shower.  
  
The invigoratingly hot water helped to wash the sticky remnants of last night away. It also helped Harry to think. Being that it was Saturday, thankfully, he could stand there and let the hot water descend upon him all day. And, considering the number of thoughts going through his head, he very well may need all day to sort them out. One thought stood out in his mind above all others: What now?  
  
He could go on about his day pretending that nothing happened, he thought. A wicked smile crossed his wet face - 'but that wouldn't be any fun.'  
  
He could tell Ron how he felt. The smile quickly faded - 'but I don't even know how I feel.'  
  
As exciting as it was last night, Harry couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that excited him. Was it the fact that Ron got on him? Or was it the fact that he was able to watch Ron get on him? It was a tough choice, to say the least. Harry leaned against the shower wall and closed his eyes, hoping it would help.  
  
'Okay, I'm feeling desire. Yes. That's true - but for what? I can't very well go tell Ron that I want him if I don't truly know it for a fact.' The lines in Harry's brow deepened. 'I can't hurt him like that.' Lightly bouncing his head off the wall, he tried to think. 'It's just that, I don't have anything to compare him to.' And that was the truth.  
  
Harry, even though he had been in relationships before, had never actually gotten very far - physically at least. Ron had always laughed at him for being a "prude". It's not that Harry didn't want to experience sex, he just hadn't found the right person. 'Yet.' And he wasn't keen on the idea of whoring himself around Hogwarts. Harry already had a reputation that followed him, much to his disgust, and he would be damned before he brought another one on himself.  
  
"The-boy-who-lived-and-then-fucked-everyone." Harry laughed softly, his tone bitter.  
  
'Wait a sec-' his eyes opened. 'Maybe I won't have to.'  
  
A wicked little grin found its way to Harry's lips and made its home there.  
  
He had an idea.  
  
~*~  
  
After an excruciatingly long shower, Harry grabbed his towel and made his way back to the common room. Ron had awaked already and was incoherently flipping through one of his many Quidditch magazines.  
  
Their eyes met - and held - before Ron blushed and turned back to his magazine.  
  
This time, it was Harry's turn to make Ron choke.  
  
"Sleep well, mate?"  
  
'Choke' may be the wrong word. 'Rip the page of his magazine half off' may be more appropriate  
  
"W-what?" Ron stuttered.  
  
Harry laughed and repeated his question, this time annoyingly slow. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
Recovering, Ron answered. "Yeah. You?"  
  
Mock-thinking about it, he nodded. "Yeah." Still intrigued by Ron's earlier response, Harry decided to play with him. "Dream anything?"  
  
There went the last half of the page.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Yeah - no - I mean -" Ron was desperately trying to fix the page, unsuccessfully.  
  
'This shouldn't be so much fun.' Harry couldn't help but chuckle to himself.  
  
Slamming the magazine shut, Ron made a frantic attempt to hide the fact that he was nervous as hell.  
  
Harry continued.  
  
"Yeah? What was the dream about?" Before Ron had a chance to answer, Harry let his towel drop.  
  
~silence~  
  
"Ron?"  
  
~silence~  
  
"RON?"  
  
"Wha?"  
  
Oh god this was fun. He felt horrible for Ron, but he had started this game - no way he was going to stop now.  
  
"You had a dream. And it was about - ?"  
  
Again, before Ron could answer, Harry bent over to pick up his towel, his bare ass in Ron's noticeably red face.  
  
"QUIDDITCH!"  
  
Harry looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Figures."  
  
Deciding that it probably wasn't going to do him any good to continue playing, Harry changed into his clothes. By this point, Ron had started panting a little bit. Not in desire, necessarily, but desire mixed with utter horror.  
  
You couldn't help but feel bad for the boy.  
  
Harry slipped the tee shirt over his head, grabbed his glasses and made his way to the door. "I'll see you at breakfast?"  
  
Ron just nodded a "yes," his mouth still slightly agape.  
  
"Good. Hurry up though." And with that, he was out the door.  
  
After he was sure that Harry had left, Ron let out a colossal sigh. Then promptly started pounding his head into the side of the bed.  
  
~*~  
  
As unbelievable as it was, breakfast was even more enjoyable than his "flirt fest" with Ron. Before him sat hundreds of possibilities; a buffet as it were.  
  
It was a smorgasbord of options.  
  
'Who will it be? Who's the lucky witch or wizard?' The Great Hall was alive with discussion. Bits and pieces of conversations grazed past him; and normally Harry would partake in the ruckus. But not today; he was too busy searching for his next meal.  
  
Harry studied the crowd like a hawk searching for prey. Who would make the perfect victim?  
  
Immediately, Harry dismissed the word "victim." He wasn't going to hurt them, after all. At least, not unless they wanted him to.  
  
The wicked grin, that still hadn't left his face, grew a bit wider.  
  
'Enough horsing around - gotta concentrate.' Harry resumed his search.  
  
Sitting across from him was Hermione, happily munching away on some waffles smothered in strawberry sauce. Instantly, Harry's mind took a turn for the gutter. Imagining her covered in strawberry sauce, Harry looked her over, faintly aware of his tongue running over his lips.  
  
'No. No, not Hermione. Not yet.' He quickly turned his gaze back to his food. The thought of sleeping with his closest friends back to back disturbed him. He laughed at himself again, 'It's not like I'm really going to be shagging them, after all. Just, watching - no harm in watching.'  
  
'Watching them against their will!' A little voice in the back of his head screamed at him. It was his conscience, or what was left of it, trying to regain some control.  
  
He dismissed it.  
  
Scanning the masses once again, Harry's attention was caught by Albus Dumbledore, who had just transfigured his heaping plate of eggs and toast into gumdrops. Laughing out loud a bit, Harry sat and studied him. 'Dumbledore?' What a ridiculous thought! Never once had it crossed Harry's mind to enter one of the professor's dreams.  
  
However -  
  
It wasn't a bad idea. Harry could only imagine what sort of dreams took place in Dumbledore's head. 'Probably battles against Voldemort with a candy cane and lemon drops.' Harry laughed out loud at the thought. No, not Dumbledore. Not yet, at least. Although the thought intrigued him, he needed someone more devious. More enthralling.  
  
'Whose head have I always wanted to get into?'  
  
He needed someone to fit his current mood, and Harry was feeling the need to raise some hell.  
  
The answer hit him like a smack to the head - not because it was an epiphany - but because someone had just hit the back of his head with a muffin.  
  
Surprised and angered, Harry flew around to find himself eye to eye with Draco Malfoy. The bastard had actually moved from his usual seat at the Slytherin table to get a better shot; he was sitting with the Ravenclaw's, his back to their table, arms propped up and leaning back. And, of course, he was smirking.  
  
"Morning, Potter." Malfoy always had a way of pronouncing Harry's last name as if he were spitting it.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes and spat back, "Mingling with the commoners today, Malfoy?"  
  
Unfazed and unblinking, Draco retorted dramatically, "Yes, a wave of pity washed over me and I had a sudden urge to feed the poor." He cocked his head as he held up a cranberry muffin. "Care for another?" The Ravenclaws around him shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Harry smiled sweetly at him, trying his best to sound amused. "How kind of you. Lowering yourself to help another. I'm so touched, Malfoy." Harry began to get choked up, wiping away a fake tear. "I may cry."  
  
"You would cry, Potter." Draco's eyes were gleaming as he leaned in closer. "Only the weak and damaged cry. Isn't that true, Mudblood?" His attention turned toward Hermione.  
  
"You're one to talk," Harry, who had fully turned around, leaned forward till he was only centimeters away from Draco. "Ferret boy."  
  
"You die the next time you say that." Draco's breath was hot on his face.  
  
Harry's gaze was intense, peering into the fierce ice blue eyes in front of him. The hatred inside him caused his emerald eyes to sparkle with such fire, that he was sure they'd gone red. It was a stand off.  
  
Ideas were creeping into his mind. Draco Malfoy. Fucking around with Ron had been fun, but this pairing could prove to be even more fulfilling. Thoughts of torture and humiliation danced in his head.  
  
One smile and two seconds later, he had made his decision.  
  
Quietly, so that only Malfoy could hear him, he whispered, "You'll do."  
  
This was not what Draco had expected. It confused him; and because his confusion was a direct result of Harry's cheek, it angered him.  
  
His stare caused a chill to creep up Draco's spine, making the blonde hair on his neck stand on end. This angered him even more. And what was worse, he couldn't think of anything to say.  
  
"That's how I like you." Harry's voice was even softer now. "Speechless."  
  
"What?" was all the reply Draco could muster. His mouth had gone dry.  
  
Harry was enjoying the sight of an obviously flustered Malfoy. The power trip was indescribable.  
  
"I'll see you tonight."  
  
And with that, Harry twisted back around, turning his attentions back to his breakfast.  
  
Stunned, it took Draco a second to regain his composure. No one steals his thunder, NO ONE. Especially not that ass of a wizard, Potter. Calmly, Draco made his way back to the Slytherin table, plotting his revenge all the while.  
  
Harry enjoyed the rest of breakfast with the sensation of two holes being burned into the back of his head. He couldn't remember food ever tasting so good.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry spent his Saturday afternoon in the library, plotting. Trying to come up with as many Machiavellian-type scenarios as possible, his face twisting with delight every time he did.  
  
"Ooh, that's good." Harry mentally patted himself on the back as he furiously scribbled his ideas onto paper. Holding the paper away from him, Harry squinted as he scanned the list.  
  
1) Chinese Water Torture 2) Stretching him on the rack 3) Whipping him till he bleeds 4) Beating him till he goes unconscious 5) Hanging him by his toes 6) Starving him 7) Humiliating him in front of his mother  
  
Harry's grin turned to a scowl as he realized his ideas lacked a certain creativity - a creativity that Malfoy deserved. 'For all I know, this is his idea of a good weekend.' No, he wanted Malfoy to suffer. Waking up screaming and in a cold sweat, sort of suffer. 'Flogging him incessantly won't make a dent. I'll have to think up something else.' Harry's pouting session was interrupted by a gasp, followed by a small squeal of delight.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Mione?"  
  
"I knew it was you! What on earth are you doing in the Library?" Hermione plopped down, obviously excited to have a studying partner.  
  
"Well, sort of studying, I guess-" Not quite sure if that was at all accurate, Harry figured it was probably the best response.  
  
Hermione beamed, her smile making her face radiant. Harry couldn't help but look at her. 'How have I not noticed that before?' Shaking his head, Harry tuned back in to what she was saying.  
  
"What?"  
  
Rolling her eyes, Hermione repeated herself. "What are you studying for?"  
  
Harry hesitated. Should he tell her what he's really doing? Feeling brave, and curious to see her reaction, he told her. (Not like she'd take him seriously, anyway.)  
  
"Due to years of incessant annoyance and humiliation, I'm preparing to teach Malfoy a lesson in pain. So, I've been gathering a few ideas together, but I'm not really happy with any of them." He smiled and handed her the list. "I was wondering if you had any suggestions to add."  
  
Taken a back by his statement, but curious none the less, Hermione took the list.  
  
Scanned it once.  
  
Scanned it twice.  
  
Handed it back to him.  
  
Then laughed her arse off.  
  
Harry, happy to see her concur with his sense of humor, laughed as well.  
  
'If only she knew-'  
  
Then Hermione surprised him. She started playing along.  
  
"No amount of physical torture will work. That boy is too used to pain."  
  
Harry nodded both in agreement and to urge her to continue.  
  
"What you need to do, if you really want to get him," she paused. "I can't believe I'm saying this-"  
  
"What?" Harry chuckled.  
  
"He hates losing control."  
  
"Right."  
  
"And he hates you-"  
  
Starting to put it together, Harry replied slowly, "Riiight-"  
  
"So, find a way to control him- I don't know, enslave him or something-"  
  
She paused - her look, serious.  
  
"Then, get him to like it."  
  
Harry's jaw dropped. Was this the same Hermione that always blushed whenever someone would compliment her? How could such a devious plan unfold in such an innocent mind? As if reading his thoughts, 'Mione burst out in a fit of laughter.  
  
"Didn't expect that, did ya?"  
  
Slowly shaking his head, "No."  
  
"Had you going there for a sec, though." Hermione smiled, pleased with herself.  
  
"It's brilliant." Hermione, you have no idea.  
  
"Yeah, well, brilliant or no, there's no way you're going to get Draco Malfoy to be your slave."  
  
Harry decided to play dumb for that comment.  
  
"Yeah, in my dreams." His devilish grin returning, "It would be fun though."  
  
Afraid that he'd give too much away if this particular conversation continued, Harry tried to change the subject.  
  
"So, studying for the end-of-term finals in September are we?" He poked fun at her.  
  
Hermione gave him that "aren't you clever" look of hers. "If you really must know, I was trying to study in my room, but Olivia was taking a nap." Olivia was a transfer student, new this year to Hogwarts. Tall with short blonde hair, she was definitely attractive, but not too bright. Hermione rolled her eyes as she continued. "Apparently, I study too loudly."  
  
Harry chuckled. "Why, do you study out loud?"  
  
"Yes, why?" She gave him another one of those looks.  
  
"I'd better be going." Taking his cue to leave, Harry gathered his things together and hugged Hermione around the neck.  
  
"Thanks again for your help."  
  
She smiled at him, "Anytime."  
  
Harry was almost out of sight when Hermione called over to him again.  
  
"Harry, you're not going to do anything to Draco, are you?"  
  
He shrugged, "Nothing that he doesn't severely deserve." And with that, he left.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry was almost to the Gryffindor Common room when he realized that he didn't actually know if he could do anything to Malfoy. The only thing he did in Ron's dream was watch, he didn't try to do anything.  
  
'Wait, no, I did. I made myself move in the Quidditch game.' Harry's brow creased, 'But how did I do that?'  
  
Harry pictured himself trying to control Malfoy's dream, only to have Draco laughing at his pathetic attempts in his sleep. He wasn't about to let that happen.  
  
'I need to - practice.' But on who?  
  
"Olivia."  
  
Harry raced back to his room, excited at the thought of another round in dreamland. Even if it was with a girl he hardly knew. Actually, that almost made it more exciting.  
  
Amulet in hand, Harry sat down on his bed and kicked off his shoes.  
  
'Here goes nothing.'  
  
And with that, he slid the amulet around his neck and laid down. 'Olivia'  
  
The familiar sensation of falling began, and just before everything went completely hazy, Harry looked at the clock.  
  
4:35  
  
~swirling~  
  
~swirling~  
  
~blackness~  
  
~*~  
  
Okay, any thoughts? Comments? Literary criticisms? Let me know! I'm all ears over here. 


	5. Chapter 5

Warning: Jeez, if you've read this far into the damn thing, I think you know the warning. It's rated R for a reason! Heh.  
  
A/N: Ms. Rowling finally called me back! Heheheheheh. my plan is almost complete. Hey, what's a restraining order? Anyone know? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?  
  
Summary: Harry's lust for life has finally returned! Well, at least the lust part has. * Evil grin * He's chosen his next victim, cough, er, well, yeah. victim. Poor Draco, will he see what's coming?  
  
Side note: Thank you everyone for reviewing! I about fell over when I saw how many reviews I got. And yes, it's about time Harry got to be the evil one. I'm so glad that you like it. Once again Fran, you crack me up girl! * bowing *  
  
~*~  
  
A light breeze, followed by a melodious twittering of birds, greeted Harry's arrival. The sun shone brightly, warming his face with its rays. Smiling, Harry opened his eyes and took in the beautiful landscape before him. Instantly, his smile contorted into a 'What?'  
  
'No way.' Not believing his own eyes, Harry closed them again, focused, and reopened them.  
  
Bunnies. Thousands and thousands of bunnies - all hip hopping along their merry way. Bunnies of all shapes and sizes. Most were brown, but the occasional gray and black one would pop up and then disappear again.  
  
'Apparently, yes.'  
  
And there, in the center of the meadow, sat Olivia Montgomery happily petting away on her bunny. It was white. He couldn't help but notice how much she resembled Alice from "Alice in Wonderland." She was wearing a short blue dress, a white apron, black shoes with white socks - she even donned a black headband.  
  
Harry grinned as he took in the absurdity of it all. 'Bunnies.' He shrugged. 'Oh well, not my dream.'  
  
Not wanting to waste any more time gawking, Harry tried to make his way through the field of bunnies, pausing and redirecting his path as he tried not to step on any. 'This is insane.' Finally, he made it to Olivia, who was, of course, completely unaware of his presence.  
  
"Olivia!"  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Oi!"  
  
He tried waving his hand in front of her face. Nothing. Not even a blink. Her expression was calm, serene - or as Hermione would so graciously put it - as passive as a Hindu cow.  
  
'How did I get myself to move before?' Harry paced back and forth in front of Olivia for what seemed like an hour, picking his brain. 'Maybe-'  
  
After clearing his throat, Harry spoke. "You can see me."  
  
Instantaneously, Olivia looked up at him and smiled. "Hullo Harry! What are you doing here?"  
  
He grinned back at her, sarcastically congratulating himself for taking so long to figure out the obvious. 'All right - she can see me. Now what?'  
  
"Would you like to pet my bunny?" Olivia offered up the white bunny, which had been happily dozing in her lap.  
  
A note chimed in Harry's brain - and the wicked little grin returned home.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry spent the next three hours discovering ways to mold Olivia into doing whatever he wanted; however he wanted. It really wasn't as difficult as he had imagined it would be. All he had to do was concentrate on what he wanted her to do, then say it out loud and watch it unfold. Quite simple really.  
  
By the time he was done with her, Olivia was terrified. Screaming bloody murder, she tried to escape the hoard of evil bunnies that now surrounded her.  
  
"Keep them away!!" They were getting closer.  
  
Harry chuckled.  
  
"The bunnies!" Closing in. "Oh God - THE BUNNIES!"  
  
'I think I'm ready for Malfoy, now.' Retribution on his mind, an anxious Harry slipped the amulet from around his neck.  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Swirling~  
  
The last thing he heard before the darkness engulfed him was Olivia screaming.  
  
~Darkness~  
  
~*~  
  
Back at Hogwarts -  
  
Ron Weasley paced about the Gryffindor common room, preoccupied and furious with himself. Barely aware that the crick in his neck was getting more and more painful, Ron continued to watch the floor. Having memorized his path, he followed it around the couch, past the fireplace, up two steps of the staircase, and then back two steps down, back around the chair and towards the couch.  
  
Rinse, lather, and repeat.  
  
He had kept true to this course for about two hours, the same questions running through his mind. 'When do I tell him? How do I tell him? Better yet, WHAT do I tell him?'  
  
'It's not like I don't care about him - he's my best mate - he'll always be my best mate - (unless I screw this up) - but just because I had a couple of (intense) stupid dreams - that doesn't mean I actually full on WANT him.' Ron started hitting his head lightly against the stone wall.  
  
If Ron had been able to hear Harry's monologue in the shower earlier that day, his predicament would've been a bit easier to handle. However, he hadn't, and therefore had no idea how similar their situations were.  
  
'Wish I had something to compare this to.' His head hit the wall with a thud.  
  
As much hell as he had given Harry about being a "prude", in reality, Ron wasn't exactly well versed in the world of physical pleasure himself. Other than the few quick snogging sessions with Pamela Atkins in the fifth grade, he had no other experience - much to his embarrassment. Not that he would ever tell Harry.  
  
Ron scoffed at himself, remembering that morning. 'How bleedin' obvious do I have to make it? Here, Harry - let me just completely make an ass of myself while you change in front of me!'  
  
"Idiot - Idiot - Idiot." Ron continued to hit his head against the wall, emphasizing his stupidity with every thud.  
  
He undoubtedly would've given himself a concussion, had the clock not informed him that it was dinnertime. Not feeling very hungry, but grateful for the distraction, Ron decided to stop punishing himself and promptly left for supper.  
  
'Maybe I can talk to Hermione about this. She always knows what to do.' It was an encouraging though. Unfortunately, not encouraging enough to stop the dull throbbing in the back of his head.  
  
Ron glanced up at the clock, only then to be reminded of the massive crick in his neck.  
  
6:02  
  
"Oww."  
  
~*~  
  
Harry awoke to the familiar sensation of plummeting onto his bed, as if he had just been dropped from twenty feet above. Although this had been the third time he'd used the amulet, he was far from becoming accustomed to the violent landing. Usually he would have to wait a minute or so to familiarize himself with his surroundings, but not today. Harry knew exactly where he was; and even more importantly, he knew exactly what he was going to do.  
  
'Malfoy.'  
  
In protest to his choice of priorities, Harry's stomach let out a hollow growl.  
  
'Okay, eat first, then Malfoy.'  
  
Controlling someone's dream was hungry work. And considering what all Harry had in store for Malfoy, he'd need all the energy he could muster. Harry's stomach let out a second growl as if to concur with him. Taking that as his cue, Harry stuffed the amulet into his pocket, threw on a new shirt and headed down the stairs.  
  
6:10  
  
'Good, dinner's just started.'  
  
Harry couldn't help but giggle as he made his way through the grandiose passageways of Hogwarts. Delicious images of Draco Malfoy cowering beneath him, pleading for mercy played out in his mind. The most appealing aspect of this whole situation, in Harry's mind, was the fact that he could finally get his revenge without the ever-present risk of detention. Or worse, expulsion. Realistically, what could Malfoy do? Run to Professor Snape with the complaint that he couldn't stop dreaming about his archrival, Harry Potter? He could picture him standing there, red in the face, eyes bloodshot and shrunken from lack of sleep, pleading with Snape to make the bad dreams go away.  
  
"Thirty points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy, for your complete and utter lack of intelligence."  
  
"A fair likeness, Mr. Potter. However, I would've hoped that by now you're voice would have dropped enough to provide a DECENT impression."  
  
Only when the hairs stood up on the back of his neck did Harry realize that he had said that out loud. And, as luck would have it, Professor Snape was standing within earshot. As he turned to face the brooding professor, Harry tried to think of an excuse, but all that came out was a squeak.  
  
"Apparently not." Snape's eyes were cold, the curve of his lip slightly twitching in delight at Harry's apparent state of embarrassment.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for your overly zealous cheek."  
  
Harry opened his mouth in protest, but was cut short.  
  
"AND, an additional twenty points will be taken for your lack of talent, Mr. Potter. I expect a significantly more convincing performance next time."  
  
Stunned, Harry closed his mouth. And only when Professor Snape's footsteps were out of range did he begin to breathe again. The grin thoroughly washed from his face; Harry made his way to the Great Hall.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco Malfoy was already a quarter through his dinner when he spotted Harry entering the Great Hall. He stopped chewing just long enough to smirk. Harry's face was pale - his pace, quick as he found his seat at the Gryffindor table. Draco inwardly snickered; elated at the thought of how much paler it would be by the end of the meal. Similar to another sixth- year, Draco had spent his Saturday afternoon in his room, plotting.  
  
Revenge was one of the only things that Draco felt any joy in, anymore. Years and years ago, the thought of his father's pride in him brought Draco more than enough happiness. However, years of fruitless attempts at recognition thoroughly killed any hope of ever earning his father's affection. Revenge, and the thought of ruining a certain cheeky Gryffindor's life, were the only things that kept him waking up in the morning.  
  
Draco's thoughts drifted to earlier that day. A simple battle of wits over breakfast had somehow turned into a proper clusterfuck. Harry's attempt at confusing him, much to his distaste, had worked - and there was hell to pay.  
  
'Hope you picked a decent seat, Potter - 'cause there's going to be quite a show.'  
  
~*~  
  
Back at the Gryffindor table, Harry tossed down his food in an attempt to forget his encounter with Snape, barely aware of the freckled face peering at him. It took Ron knocking over his glass to get his attention.  
  
"All right there Ron?"  
  
Frantically cleaning up the spilt pumpkin juice, Ron meekly answered "Yeah."  
  
Harry began telling him about what had happened with Snape in the hallway, completely forgetting their escapades that morning. Ron listened eagerly, thankful that things had started to get back to normal.  
  
"You're kidding! He heard you?"  
  
"Yea - the wanker. Actually had the nerve to tell me I was no good at it, either."  
  
Slack jawed, Ron nudged Harry's leg to get him to continue - only to recoil immediately after realizing that he had touched him. "What did you say, anyway?"  
  
Harry lied. "Don't really remember. Something just caught me as funny, and I said it out loud instead of thinking it. Thirty points later, I'm wishing I hadn't."  
  
Ron choked back a laugh. "Thirty points? You must've been REALLY bad, mate."  
  
Harry's good-natured smile returned, and the two of them laughed till their bellies hurt. Ron was an inch from knocking over his pumpkin juice again, when Hermione joined them at the table.  
  
"Good to see the two of you have worked out whatever problem you had."  
  
Ron looked at Harry who returned his gaze. Neither of them had any clue as to what she was talking about. Well, each had his own idea, but THAT conversation was for a later date. In a moment of theatrical brilliance, Ron spoke.  
  
"Don't know what you're talking about, 'Mione."  
  
Happy to oblige Ron's response, Harry concurred. "No idea."  
  
Refusing to let herself get involved in a debate that would surely end with her getting a headache, Hermione simply sighed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever."  
  
Ron spoke again, silently eager to change the subject. "You're usually the first one at dinner, 'Mione. What happened? Madam Pince giving away books at the library?" Ron laughed smugly; he always loved poking fun at Hermione's brilliance. "Bookworm."  
  
"It's a LIBRARY, Ronald - it's not as if the books cost anything." It was Hermione's turn to laugh smugly; she always loved poking fun at Ron's stupidity. "Twit."  
  
Before Ron had a chance to retort, Hermione continued.  
  
"Actually, I was in my room cleaning up for supper, but I couldn't even get near my trunk. Olivia-" Again, Hermione rolled her eyes at the name. "- was having some sort of a fit. Completely nuts, that girl."  
  
"What was she doing?" Harry had suddenly become deeply involved in the conversation.  
  
If rolling one's eyes had been a sport, Hermione Granger would've been a gold medallist - as it was obvious that talking about Olivia Montgomery left a bad taste in her mouth. "It was insane. She was flying around the room, tearing down every picture she had on the walls - talking so fast, I couldn't understand a word." She paused.  
  
"Something about bunnies."  
  
Harry's eyes got wide as he stifled back a fit of laughter.  
  
"Bunnies?" Ron was confused.  
  
"Bunnies." Hermione shook her head. "Mental, that one."  
  
Still laughing, Harry closed his eyes and remembered the look on Olivia's face as her bunnies closed in on her. Sure, it was a cruel thing to have done, but that look on her face. Priceless. And to think, the dream had affected her so much - to the point of redecorating her room. Harry smiled again.  
  
'This could be more fun than I thought.'  
  
The distinct feeling of someone watching him cause Harry to open his eyes; only to find them locked, once again, with Draco Malfoy. Who, much to Harry's surprise, was smiling right back.  
  
Suddenly, and without reason, Harry's scar began to hurt. Intense flashes of pain began to creep down his forehead and into his eyes, blurring his vision. He closed them, hoping it would pass.  
  
Harry was no stranger to pain - life with the Dursleys and Voldemort's vengeance had seen to that - but it had never been like this. The pain was excruciating. He felt as if his scar was tearing his forehead apart. Harry opened his eyes; squinting, he tried to scan the Great Hall for any sign of Voldemort.  
  
Half-expecting screams of terror from the students, Harry's ears were only met with incoherent chattering. And what was worse, he couldn't break eye contact with Malfoy. Their gaze locked together by some unknown force - it was almost as if a spell -  
  
A brief moment of clarity seized Harry, allowing him one lucid thought, before being swept away again by the pain.  
  
'You'  
  
A wave of nausea swept through his stomach. As if responding to his unspoken accusation, Malfoy sneered. It was the last thing Harry saw before he hit the floor.  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Darkness~  
  
~*~  
  
P.S. I'm SOOOOO sorry it took me so damn long to get this chapter up. Grrrrrrrr. I had a horrid case of writer's block, plus the fact that I have little to no time to write. I hope you all forgive me. As a way of making it up to you, I'm going to be writing the next chapter tonight and posting it later today. I hope you all don't hate me too much! * pant, pant * 


	6. Chapter 6

Warning: Violence, language, sex, yadda yadda yadda  
  
A/N: I'm currently typing this from my prison cell. * pout * Why didn't anyone tell me that's what a restraining order means??? I still own nothing.  
  
Summary: Having thoroughly screwed around with Olivia Montgomery's head, Harry was ready to take on a bigger and better challenge. Unfortunately, that same challenge * cough MALFOY cough * had other plans. In a word, revenge.  
  
Side note: Please don't hate me for taking so long to update!  
  
~*~  
  
~Flashback~  
  
'Look at him. Carrying on in that asinine manner - completely oblivious.' He sneered. 'The foolish git won't even see it coming.'  
  
Draco Malfoy studied his prey like a hawk preparing to strike, aware that at any time his chance may be lost. His thin fingers lazily traced over his wand, which was now securely hidden beneath the table, strategically placed between his legs.  
  
His gaze was resolute - unfaltering. Regardless of how many students walked into his view, he stayed focused. Determined to have his vengeance. Draco watched, and waited.  
  
Harry Potter, who sat across the room at the Gryffindor table, was laughing. Always laughing, in Draco's mind, at him. "Keep laughing, Potter. That's it. Laugh till your sides hurt.' Draco's brow creased. 'Soon, it won't be laughter that causes you to cramp up.' A fire erupted behind Draco's eyes.  
  
'It will be me.'  
  
Not breaking eye contact with Harry for more than a second, Draco nodded to Crabe and Goyle, who were tactically positioned in front of him. Taking their cue, each scooted over a couple of inches, leaving Malfoy a clear path.  
  
'No one makes a fool of me.'  
  
He took aim.  
  
'No one.'  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, Draco inhaled - remembering the words he had studied earlier in the day. And in one smooth breath, exhaled the curse.  
  
"Pavidus Adflictatio"  
  
In one swift movement, all the hate and pint up fury left his body through his right arm, and was transferred into his wand - which in turn shot out into the Great Hall, aimed directly at Harry.  
  
And as quickly as his fury had left him, a surge of exhilaration began to flow through his body. All he had to do now was watch. Watch, and wait.  
  
Seconds after Draco had cast the curse, Harry's face began to contort in, what looked to be, agonizing pain. Draco smiled, his eyes never leaving Harry's. He was obviously confused - trying to see if somehow the Dark Lord had found his way into Hogwarts.  
  
'Keep looking, Potter. No - no - ah, yes, THERE.'  
  
Their gazes met, and locked. Draco held him there in sick fascination, his stomach in knots, waiting for the moment of recognition. And there it was. Harry's eyes focused long enough to understand who had done this too him.  
  
Draco sneered.  
  
It was only after Harry had slumped onto the floor, unconscious, that Draco began to blink again. The knots inside his stomach undid themselves, and his pulse returned to it's normal pace. His power trip was over. Absentmindedly, Draco glanced at his watch.  
  
6:46  
  
~*~  
  
~Infirmary ~ Present time ~  
  
"Harry! Harry? Can you hear me?"  
  
"If he was going to wake up due to your shouting in his ear, he would've 2 hours ago."  
  
~Silence~  
  
"Well - no harm in trying!"  
  
"Uugh."  
  
Frustrated, Hermione sat down on the bed next to Ron, both of them fixed on their unconscious friend. It had been almost four hours since Harry passed out, and there was still no sign as to why.  
  
"You don't suppose it was, um, you-know-who, do you?" Ron's voice had gone quiet, his eyes slightly bugging out as he said the name.  
  
"No." She shook her head softly. "I don't think so. He can't get to Harry while he's at Hogwarts, remember?"  
  
"Right. Right, I'd forgotten that." Hermione always was the voice of reason. "So, who then?"  
  
"I'd bet my life's savings that Malfoy had something to do with it." Hermione's look was severe.  
  
"When does Malfoy NOT have something to do with it?" Ron hit the bed in frustration, his knuckles white from the pressure. "If I find out he did this-"  
  
"I know, Ron. I know." Hermione managed a smile. "We'll get him."  
  
Silent minutes passed, neither one knowing what to say. It was starting to get late, but neither Ron nor Hermione felt much like sleeping; they would stay by his side all night if they had to. Suddenly, Ron remembered the dream, and his ears went red. He had wanted to talk to Hermione, but now hardly seemed the appropriate time. Not that Harry was conscious enough to hear, but the thought nagged at him - Another three minutes passed before Ron finally spoke up.  
  
"Mione?"  
  
"Yes, Ron?"  
  
"I - I think I need your help in something." Still gawking at the floor, Ron was only half-aware that he was speaking.  
  
"Sure. What about?"  
  
~Silence~  
  
"Ron?"  
  
Biting his lip, Ron began. "I've been having these, these dreams-" But his attempted confessional was interrupted by a groan.  
  
"Uuuhn."  
  
"What?" A hurt Ron turned to Hermione. What sort of a response was that?  
  
"That wasn't me, Ron, it was Harry!" Hermione was beaming.  
  
Still dazed, but not in any more pain, Harry started to get up. Rather, he tried to get up, but was promptly shoved back down again by his two friends. "Don't you move! We still don't know what happened to you." Hermione's voice was stern. Madam Pompfrey smiled from across the room. That young woman would make a fine medi-witch some day.  
  
"All right there, Harry?" Ron secretly hoped he hadn't heard everything. "Do you remember anything?"  
  
Harry's mind was racing. All he could remember was pain. That horrible, searing pain.  
  
"I, I remember-" Harry closed his eyes and thought back, trying to relive what happened. "My scar. My scar started hurting. And then-" There was something else. Someone else there - someone looking at him. Charcoal gray eyes flashed in his mind, and instantly the memories came flooding back to him. Malfoy.  
  
Hermione was on the edge of the bed, about ready to fall off. "And then?"  
  
Harry tried to disregard the bile that had been collecting in his mouth and shook his head. They didn't need to know who was responsible. Not that he could prove it, anyway. "Nothing. Nothing after that."  
  
Ron let out a disappointed sigh and slumped back onto the bed; Hermione joined him. There was a collective moment of silence before Madam Pompfrey made her way over to them.  
  
"Good to see you've awakened, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?" She handed him a piece of chocolate.  
  
"I'm fine. Better now, thanks." Harry gratefully took the chocolate and started munching.  
  
"You said your scar hurt, did you not?" She had moved his hair away from his scar, tentatively tracing the outline with her finger. Harry flinched, causing her to drop her hand. "I'll have to inform Headmaster Dumbledore immediately."  
  
"No, that's not necessary." Harry looked around at his friends to back him up, but they were just as uncompromising as Madam Pompfrey. They all knew he hated the attention his scar brought him, but every time it's hurt in the past has been a warning. If you-know-who was planning something, Dumbledore ought to know about it.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter, it is." Madam Pompfrey gave him one of those "don't argue with me" looks.  
  
Frustrated, and not wanting to have to explain the story over and over again, Harry tried to reason with her. "It wasn't Voldemort." Everyone except Harry cringed at the name. "Sorry, but it wasn't. I know what he feels like; rather, what he makes my scar feel like. This wasn't him."  
  
"Then who was it?" Ron finally spoke up.  
  
"I don't know." He lied. "Someone pulling a prank or something. It doesn't really matter anyway, I'm fine." Harry managed a weak smile. "You don't need to get Dumbledore."  
  
Madam Pompfrey looked him over, not quite convinced. "I won't bring the headmaster into this, BUT I'll need to keep you under constant supervision. You will be spending the night here tonight. And if I see ANYTHING out of the ordinary, anything a' tall, Dumbledore will be contacted immediately." Harry could tell this was the best offer he was going to get from her. "Deal?"  
  
"Deal." Harry grinned, and the serious cloud that had been hanging over the lot of them finally lifted. Satisfied, Madam Pompfrey went back into her office, leaving the trio to chat amongst themselves.  
  
"That was quite a tumble you took there, mate." Ron smiled at him. "Thought we'd lost you to Hogwart's cooking."  
  
Both Harry and Hermione let out a loud laugh.  
  
~*~  
  
Back in the Slytherin Common Room, Draco Malfoy was doing a dance of joy. His senses were alive: the air smelt better, the roaring fire felt hotter, and a sense of peace had settled nicely in his belly. He hadn't felt this good in ages. Even Crabe and Goyle's ramblings were significantly less annoying.  
  
"You really got him, huh Draco?" Goyle smirked as he sat on the black leather couch, Crabe imitating his look on the other end.  
  
Draco casually strolled up to the fireplace and leaned up against it, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Got whom?"  
  
Confused, Crabe looked at Goyle. "Potter."  
  
Continuing the innocent act, Draco smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done a thing to him."  
  
Finally catching on, Goyle smirked. "Riiiiiight."  
  
A moment of silence passed before the trio erupted in hoots and laughter.  
  
"Did you see his face right before he passed out??" "What an ass." "He deserved it."  
  
Draco couldn't help but be pleased with himself. Not only had he gotten his revenge on Potter, but also, no one could prove it was him. The only other person who knew besides Crabe and Goyle was Harry, and he was probably still unconscious. A sly smile spread across his pale face, 'No one fucks with Draco Malfoy.'  
  
The evening wore on as the three continued to insult Harry, Weasel and his mudblood girlfriend, Granger. The slur-fest continued into the night, and Draco soon found himself bored with the topic. Unfortunately, politics and religion were a far cry from common discussion topics with Crabe and Goyle. Stupidity was the price he paid for companionship, it would seem. Draco waved his goodnights and headed to his room, leaving his compatriots snickering in the firelight.  
  
His bed felt cool beneath him as Draco lay down to sleep. His head had been on the pillow for only a moment when his thoughts, again, returned to Potter. Ever since he had met him, Draco had hated Harry - though he had never quite been able to put his finger on why. He would tell himself that Potter was a brainless git who deserved whatever torture he brought upon himself, but there was more to it than that. There always is.  
  
Draco's deep-seeded hatred of Harry Potter went beyond his stupidity. It went beyond the envy that Hermione was convinced Draco felt for Harry. No, it went far beyond any conspiracy theory that many of the students at Hogwarts suspected. If anyone had actually sat down and thought about it, the answer was obvious:  
  
Rejection.  
  
It wasn't as though Draco didn't already know the answer; he just didn't allow himself to admit to it. To become so upset over something so insignificant would be a sign of weakness. And Draco Malfoy wasn't weak. If there was anything his father had successfully drilled into his young mind, that was it. A weak Malfoy is a dead Malfoy.  
  
Draco turned over and tried to stop thinking about it. Instead, his thoughts turned to Harry, whom he assumed was still in the Hospital wing. A devilish grin spread across his face.  
  
'Who's the weak one now, Potter?'  
  
~*~  
  
Harry's eyes were drooping as he said his goodnights to his friends.  
  
"We'll come back in the morning, Harry." Hermione hugged him fiercely around the neck. "Sleep tight."  
  
"Ack - thanks 'Mione." Harry choked.  
  
"Yeah, don't fall out the bed tonight." Ron was grinning. "Don't need a repeat performance of dinner."  
  
'You're one to talk.' Harry silently laughed at his friend. "Wanker."  
  
Finally, the hospital wing was empty, and Harry was alone with his thoughts. He reached over and felt around the inside of his robe's pockets. Smiling as he found what he was looking for, Harry pulled out the amulet.  
  
Holding it over his head, Harry let it spin - momentarily captivated by the reflections it made in the moonlight. It really was beautiful. Not only in form, but also in the power that it held for Harry. A smile traced his lips as he watched the blue orb levitate within its cage.  
  
'Ready for another venture?' Harry's smile turned wicked as he thought of Malfoy. Oh, that boy had picked the wrong wizard to fuck with. If any part of Harry had previously held reservations about messing around with Malfoy's head, it was dead now. It died the second Harry's eyes locked with Malfoy's in the Great Hall. There was hell to pay.  
  
Without another thought, Harry slipped the amulet around his neck and laid down. It was cool on his chest, centering his thoughts on Malfoy.  
  
~Swirling~  
  
11:23  
  
~Swirling~  
  
'This is going to be fun.'  
  
~Darkness~  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Allright! Any thoughts, ideas, criticisms? Let me know! Please review! 


	7. Chapter 7

Warning: It's R for a REASON.  
  
A/N: * sighing humbly * Still don't own a damn thing.  
  
Summary: Well, Draco got his revenge! After cursing Harry into unconsciousness, he went and celebrated with dumb and dumber, leaving Harry in the Hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's care. Luckily, our boy wonder has brought along the amulet. How will he make Draco pay? Read on - find out.  
  
Side note: Many many thanks to my reviewers! You guys are great. And, of course, a special thanks to my good bud Fran. Pssssst - by the way, her brother knows the guy who's playing Tom Riddle in the second movie! Is that not the coolest thing? Just thought I'd shout that out.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry awoke after tumbling through the oblivion, and found himself surrounded by darkness. Immediately, he thought of the void he had entered in Ron's head. But this was different. Instead of floating, he was standing on a tangible surface - instead of feeling nothing, his senses were bombarded by a combination of smoke and sweat.  
  
And there, a few feet from him were the familiar lights. Slowly dimming and brightening, beautiful shades of blue and green, and purple, and red, and yello-  
  
'Where the hell am I?'  
  
His thought was interrupted by someone brushing past him. Rather, someone slamming into his shoulder, about knocking him over.  
  
'Okay, what are PEOPLE doing in Malfoy's head?' Confusion was starting to make his head hurt. A low throbbing began, making its way down to his chest. He tried to dismiss it, but it kept growing stronger. And stronger. He began to feel his lungs shake; his head felt like it was going to explode under the pressure. Soon, his entire body was vibrating. Only when the lights suddenly flashed on and the bass kicked in, did Harry realize that the throbbing wasn't in his head. It was in the air.  
  
He was in a club.  
  
As his eyes began to adjust, Harry began to make out, what looked to be, the dance floor. Small, but intense spotlights erratically illuminated the feverishly dancing masses. Hundreds of people moving in waves, bumping against each other, yet keeping in fluid motion with the slow, steady rhythm of the bass. It was hypnotic.  
  
Harry watched, engrossed. He had never been in a club before. Hell, the most exotic place he'd ever been to was the London Zoo. Well, besides Hogwarts, but that didn't count as exotic.  
  
Harry shook his head and cleared his thoughts - focusing them on one objective. 'Find Malfoy.' It would be a task easier said than done, for there had to be a couple of hundred people cramped together in this small place. A small smile crossed Harry's lips as the solution donned on him.  
  
"Show yourself."  
  
Immediately, the waves parted; and there in the middle of the dance floor was Malfoy, donned all in black, leisurely swaying back and forth. Straight away, Harry noticed that his hair was different. Not all slicked back with grease like usual, it was free falling, slightly curving around his chin. He laughed nervously to himself. 'No wonder Malfoy slicks it back, he looks like a surfer who hasn't gotten much sun otherwise.'  
  
The second aspect Harry noticed was the fact that Malfoy was dancing alone. Slowly shifting his weight from one leg to the other in time with the beat, alternating with his shoulders, his head down all the while - If Harry didn't know better, it almost looked like he was meditating. Harry moved to the edge of the crowd that encircled Malfoy, and watched.  
  
~ Stay away from the future ~ Back away from the light ~ It's all deranged ~ No control ~  
  
Harry strained his eyes. It looked like Malfoy was talking to someone, but there was no one around him. His head was still down, nodding in time with the music. He tried to read his lips, only then realizing Malfoy was singing along.  
  
~ Sit tight in your corner ~ Don't tell God your plans ~ It's all deranged ~ No control ~  
  
He looked so angry. Helpless almost. Powerless to the rhythm, Malfoy kept dancing. Stopping himself mid-thought, Harry silently screamed at himself. 'Don't feel pity for that bastard. Remember, he hurt you. Remember.' Harry's eyes narrowed. 'He wouldn't feel pity for you.' Harry moved around to face him, standing 3 feet away from his face. He sneered.  
  
"You can see me."  
  
Well, Malfoy could've seen him, but his head was still looking towards the floor. Wanting this party to get started, Harry took a step forward, placing his shoes directly into Malfoy's line of sight. Slowly, as if rehearsed, Draco moved his eyes upward.  
  
'Keep looking, Draco. No, no, almost there, YES-"  
  
And for the second time that day, their gazes met - and locked. Harry's stomach was in knots, reveling in that moment of recognition. The smile had not left his face.  
  
Harry wasn't sure what he loved best: the look of utter shock on Malfoy's face, or the hatred that burned in his eyes. By the way Draco's face contorted, Harry could tell that he wasn't supposed to be there. And he definitely wasn't supposed to have seen him dance. Instantly, the music changed - due to his presence, Harry concluded. The rhythm was much faster, harsher. The beat pounded in Harry's ears as he listened to Malfoy's anger.  
  
And then Draco did something Harry was not expecting. He kept dancing.  
  
~ Hallo spaceboy ~ You're sleepy now ~ Your silhouette is so stationary ~ You're released but your custody calls ~ And I want to be free ~ Don't you want to be free ~  
  
As the beat sped up, so did Malfoy. His body violently lurched and bounced around the dance floor. His head swinging around on his neck as thought it weren't attached.  
  
~ Do you like girls or boys ~ It's confusing these days ~ But moondust will cover you ~ Cover you ~  
  
Sweat began to bead up on Draco's forehead, wetting his brow and his hair, which was now stringy and falling in his face. The strobe light flickering made him appear unreal - like a phantom. As the beat slowed to a dramatic pause, Draco lowered his head and raised his eyes, meeting Harry's through strands of platinum blonde. He was smiling a terrible smile.  
  
~ This chaos is killing me ~  
  
Harry took a step back. His pulse was racing as incoherent thoughts overtook his mind. He certainly wasn't prepared to see Malfoy dance for him, nor was he about to let Malfoy get the better of him for it. In a tactical move of defense, Harry spoke. "You can't see me." And in a flash, he was gone from view. Pleased, Draco grinned and kept dancing.  
  
~ Yeah bye bye love ~  
  
~*~  
  
Flustered and infuriated with himself, Harry paced around the club, trying not to watch a seductively dancing Malfoy out the corner of his eye. 'Why isn't this working? Why did you get so damn fidgety before? Don't let him get to you. Don't let him get to you. He's on your turf now.' Harry felt like pounding his head through a wall. How could he have acted like such a git? 'Malfoy wiggles his ass a few times and I completely lose it.' At least Draco didn't realize that it was REALLY him standing there; but for all intents and purposes, he might as well have known. Harry still felt like a putz.  
  
'All right, get it together. Got to form a plan. Got to form a plan.' Harry repeated the mantra over and over in his head, hoping some form of inspiration would hit. A plan would have formed a bit easier if that damn music weren't pounding so loud in head. 'Maybe I can-' BOOM 'I know he hates-' BOOM 'Blast it all!' BOOM  
  
"STOP!"  
  
Harry hadn't realized he had spoken out loud till the room went silent.  
  
Draco stopped mid-thrash and angrily looked at the speakers. As if psychically flipping a switch, the music turned back on again. Harry smiled as a plan hatched in his head. Thoroughly pleased with himself to have found a way to piss Malfoy off, Harry spoke again.  
  
"Stop."  
  
Again, silence rang throughout the room. And again, Malfoy turned and stared at the speakers, concentrating on re-sparking the music. The switch was flipped, and the music popped on. Draco waited a minute or two before dancing, as if checking to see that the beat was truly back on for good. Harry stood in the crowd, giggling madly as Malfoy suspiciously eyed the room. Satisfied that the culprit had left, he began dancing again.  
  
Harry let him dance for a good fifteen minutes before pulling the plug once more.  
  
"Stop."  
  
Malfoy whipped around, enraged; and instantly the music was back on. This time, Harry waited only five minutes.  
  
"Stop."  
  
The battle was on. Methodically, Draco turned around to face the invisible culprit. He had given up on dancing, and now was concentrating on regaining control of his world.  
  
"Play."  
  
Half a measure pumped on before directly silenced.  
  
"Stop."  
  
"Play."  
  
This time, only a couple of beats before-  
  
"Stop."  
  
"Play." "Stop." "Play!" "Stop!" "PLAY." "STOP."  
  
Malfoy was fuming by this point, erratically pacing back and forth. "Play."  
  
Trying not to laugh too loudly, Harry kept egging him on. "Stop." And before Malfoy could get another word in, he changed the game. "Play."  
  
Without thinking, Malfoy reacted. "Stop."  
  
And then promptly screamed in frustration. "Aarrgh!" Instantly, pillars of green flame shot up all over the club, catching the walls on fire. A pillar shot up behind him, nearly singing his backside, and forced Harry to move closer to Malfoy. A small twinge of panic overtook him. It wasn't the fire that necessarily scared him; it was the fact that he could FEEL the fire. Green smoke began pillowing in, choking Harry into coughing fits. His eyes burned and teared up, blurring his vision. Where was Malfoy? Then, in a voice Harry hadn't heard before, Malfoy spoke - he was right behind him.  
  
"Show yourself!"  
  
Harry turned just in time to see Draco's reaction, before promptly being punched in the stomach. "YOU." The wind knocked out of him, Harry crumpled to the floor. Draco circled him as the music popped back on again.  
  
"I should've known." His laugh was terrible.  
  
Harry choked out a reply, "Who else?"  
  
"Did you enjoy the show, Potter?" By the tone of his voice, Harry could tell he was beyond furious. "Is that how a miserable little fuck like you gets his kicks? Spying on people?" His words flew out as if he were spitting them. "Insolent fucking prick."  
  
Refusing to let Malfoy, or the pain in his stomach get the better of him, Harry teased. "Oh yeah, Draco - watching you flutter about is definitely my idea of a good time." A painful smile crossed his lips. "Perhaps I ought to get you a pair of ballet slippers for Christmas, eh?"  
  
Malfoy started laughing. "Look at yourself - cowering in pain. I'll bet that's what you looked like on the floor of the Great Hall." Harry's eyes narrowed. "Oh yes, it was me. How did it feel, Potter? How did it feel having your forehead ripped open?" Draco's sneer had widened.  
  
Their eyes locked as Harry pushed himself onto his elbows. A small smile spread across his face, much to Draco's confusion. "What's so bloody funny?"  
  
"Sorry, Draco. I got distracted." Malfoy rolled his eyes.  
  
"So, spying on me suddenly gives you permission to address me by my first name?"  
  
Ignoring him, Harry continued. "I couldn't help but imagine how ravishing you'd look in a tutu." Harry slowly licked his lips. "Oh, and those tights-" His eyebrows rose in a provocative fashion.  
  
That did it. Draco let out a cry of anger, and with a swift kick to the head, Harry fell unconscious.  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Darkness~  
  
~*~  
  
Harry awoke with a start. Where was he? What happened? The last thing he remembered was Malfoy -  
  
Acting on impulse, he shot out his hands in defense and rolled away from the figure standing next to him. He landed with a thud, eyes wide, waiting for the second blow to come. The cold floor of Hogwarts' hospital, and the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice, snapped him back into reality.  
  
"Mr. Potter!" The tone of her voice was a combination of concern mixed with frustration. "Mr. Potter! You will cease this nonsense at once, do you understand?"  
  
Harry let out a sigh of relief as he fell back onto the floor. He was safe. Well, safe from Malfoy at least. Explaining his behavior to Madam Pomfrey was another matter entirely.  
  
"I was just - dreaming - a nightmare - I'm sorry." He hoped this would satisfy her. Harry's hand went to his neck, only to find it bare. The Amulet! Where was it?  
  
"A nightmare?" Her face grew still. "Was it the Dark Lord? Because if it was, I would have no other choice but to alert-"  
  
There it was! Somehow it had managed to slip off his neck, and landed on the other side of the bed. It was dangerously close to Madam Pomfrey's feet.  
  
Harry cut her off mid-sentence, hoping to distract her from the gleaming bauble at her feet. "No. No, it wasn't you-know-who." Harry took a deep breath. "I think it was a vision of some sort. I know who cursed me."  
  
Harry proceeded to tell her bits and parts of his dream, focusing on the parts when Malfoy had admitted to cursing him earlier that evening - his eyes instinctively glancing at the amulet the whole time. Madam Pomfrey's face was stern, but he could tell that a chord or two had struck true with her. She nodded gravely.  
  
"You must understand, Mr. Potter, that I will have to go to Dumbledore with this information. Even if it was just a dream, an investigation will have to commence."  
  
Harry tried not to grin as he nodded in a mock-sulk. "Yes Madam Pomfrey. If you think it's best." If he couldn't get his revenge on Malfoy in his dream, real life punishment would have to do.  
  
"I do, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey smiled the warmest smile Harry had ever seen. Not that it was that warm by any standards, but a real stretch for her. "Now, get some rest. This will all be sorted out in the morning."  
  
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." Harry managed a weak smile. "Thank you."  
  
Happy that her patient was finally seeing things her way, Madam Pomfrey briskly walked back to her office to alert Dumbledore of the news. When she was out of sight, Harry scurried under the bed to grab the amulet. As he stretched to reach it, a sharp pain erupted in his stomach.  
  
"Oww."  
  
He picked up the amulet and rolled out from under the bed. Once in the light, Harry lifted his shirt, revealing an angry bruise that had begun forming on his stomach. Harry's eyes widened as he realized what it was. It was in the shape of a fist.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco Malfoy woke up a few minutes later in a cold sweat. His heart was pounding in his chest, the adrenaline still pumped furiously through his veins. His anger had followed him into waking life. He barely remembered all that had happened in the dream - but one picture stood out in his mind clear as day - that foolish git lying on the ground, laughing at him.  
  
A new wave of anger surged through him. He had practically beaten the living piss out of that boy, and all he could do was laugh? No. Draco shook his head. 'Don't let it get to you. It was a dream. Nothing more.' He forced himself to laugh as he lay back down. 'Just a dream.'  
  
"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Draco shot back up and found himself face to face with a black entity. Petrified, Draco jerked back onto the bed, unable to talk.  
  
"CALM down, Mr. Malfoy. I'm not here to hurt you." Slowly, the voice became recognizable.  
  
"Professor Snape?" Draco blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust.  
  
"Get your robes on. I'm taking you to see Dumbledore." Snape's tone was far from amused. "NOW."  
  
What? Why was he taking me to see -?  
  
"Oh no."  
  
~*~  
  
All right kiddies. I hope you enjoyed that! Don't worry, there will be more to come. Oh, by the way - the lyrics I used earlier were all from David Bowie's "Outside" album. A fucking brilliant album, in my opinion. The two songs in particular were "No Control" and "Hallo Spaceboy". I highly recommend you listen to the songs! 


	8. Chapter 8

Warning: All that stuff your mom warned you about? Yeah, it's here.  
  
A/N: I don't own a damn thing..not one!  
  
Summary: In an attempt at retribution, our golden-boy weaves his way into Draco's dream - only to find out it's a bit harder to control someone with as strong a will as Malfoy. No revenge in dreamland? Waking life will have to do.  
  
Side note: A hearty thanks to all my reviewers!!! You guys are absolutely splendid! If I could take each and every one of you home with me for crumpets and tea, I would. Sincerely, I would. *big hugz* FRANNIE!!!! I love that girl - *big grin*  
  
~*~  
  
Tail between his legs, and his head hung as low as it would go, Draco made his way to Dumbledore's office - Professor Snape nipped at his heels, quickening his pace. Their footsteps echoed through the empty hallways of Hogwarts; a sound that was permanently etched into Draco's mind. The sound of his awaiting doom.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder at Professor Snape, hoping for a smirk or at least a small sign of hope. There was none. Only a pair of cold, emotionless eyes glared back at him. He was going to be expelled.  
  
"Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape's voice was curt. Not realizing he had been staring, Draco quickly turned his attentions back to the floor and muttered, "No, Professor." The last part of 'Professor' sounded more like 'rrrrrraaah', as Draco tripped on an upturned stone in the floor and landed flat on his face. His throbbing cheekbone was quickly forgotten as a sharp tug on his arm pulled Draco back on his feet.  
  
"Apparently, along with your lack of judgment, your eyesight is also in dire need of improvement." Snape's glare was about as sarcastic as his tone. Draco's cheeks burned from embarrassment. "Lumos." Their path lit, the two continued down the corridor.  
  
As they rounded the corner, drawing nearer to Dumbledore's office, Draco's heart felt as if it were going to explode. One thought circled over and over again in his mind - 'How did they find out?' Surely Crabbe and Goyle hadn't snitched. And Potter, well - he was supposed to be unconscious.  
  
The sound of Snape's thoroughly irritated voice alerted Draco that they had arrived. "Peppermint Twist." The words came out in a hiss. Although he couldn't prove it, Draco was fairly sure that Dumbledore's choice of passwords, and not his own situation, was much the cause for the distaste in Snape's voice.  
  
The hilarity of the moment was quickly lost as Snape brushed past him into the faintly lit staircase. Begrudgingly, Draco followed. With each step he took, his mind tried to find a way to escape. 'You could turn around, right now, and leave. Run out the door. Better yet, fall again! Fake an injury! Bust your head open! ANYTHING! Anything but this.' They had reached the top of the stairs. 'Last chance! Just one step backwards and- '  
  
"Come in Severus. Young Mr. Malfoy." Snape hadn't even knocked before Headmaster Dumbledore welcomed them in. His voice was the same dreamy-calm it always was, but there was a force behind it Draco hadn't heard before. His heart jumped a beat. 'Here goes.'  
  
Snape pushed the door open for him, and Draco quietly slipped past. The warmth of Dumbledore's office washed over him as he stepped in, but did little to thaw him out. His hands were still ice cold.  
  
The kindly old wizard gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Please, take a seat. You will be kind enough to join us, Severus?" Snape nodded and ushered Draco to his assigned seat. Stiffly, the two Slytherin sat - an uncomfortable silence passed between them.  
  
"Snicker doodle?" Dumbledore offered up a plate of delicious looking cookies to the both of them. In congruence, they declined. Draco didn't feel much like eating. Not letting on to their sour mood, Dumbledore shrugged and helped himself to one before sitting down.  
  
"Now then. Draco, I'm sure you're wondering why we've brought you here so late."  
  
Trying not to show his guilt, Draco politely answered. "Yes, Headmaster."  
  
Smiling, Dumbledore continued. "As you probably know, Harry Potter fell quite ill at dinner tonight and had to be rushed to the hospital wing." Draco took in a sharp breath. Taking that as a sign of concern, Dumbledore continued. "Yes, we were all quite worried for him." Snape scoffed at the remark before quickly covering it with a cough. On cue, Dumbledore conjured up a spot of tea for the obviously distraught professor. Snape accepted it without question.  
  
"Luckily, Harry seems to be fine, and has awoken without further injury. And, unfortunately, without any knowledge of what had happened." Suddenly, the sparkle fell out of his gaze. "Since then, Madam Pomfrey has informed me that there may be a clue as to who's responsible for the attack." Dumbledore paused, briefly.  
  
Snape took the opportunity to raise a question. "And just how did this information come to pass?"  
  
The sparkle returned. "Harry had a dream, Severus. A dream, he's convinced, that showed him his attacker."  
  
Draco gripped the arms of his chair - his palms leaving damp trails of sweat on the wood. The word, 'dream' echoed through his mind. Was it possible? Surely not. Unfeasible - people couldn't share dreams. But still - how else could Potter know?? He closed his eyes and tried to remember his dream. Had he given himself away? Draco could barely hear Snape speaking in fuming protest.  
  
"Since when was Potter prophetic? Don't tell me Trelawney's finally rubbed off on him."  
  
"Severus, we're not saying-"  
  
Draco's mind was racing, trying to beat out the blackness that obscured his memory. What did he dream??  
  
"Albus, we cannot accuse students of violence simply because someone simply dreamed that they were responsible! It's ludicrous!" Snape's words spat out at a rate he usually reserved for students.  
  
Draco remembered Potter - on the floor - he was in pain - pain from - HIM! Of course, he punched him in the stomach - and then - then - what? He was on the floor, he looked so weak -  
  
The dream suddenly flooded back to him. He had confessed. Just to see the fire burn in Harry's eyes, he had confessed. Draco's mouth went dry.  
  
"The hatred Potter's felt for Draco should more than prove to you the absurdity of this accusation." He was halfway out of his chair before Dumbledore waved his hand.  
  
"No one's accusing anyone of anything, Severus." His voice was calm. "Draco is in no immediate danger of disciplinary action. We're simply here to find out what happened." Dumbledore's gaze was redirected to Draco, who was looking much paler than usual.  
  
"Draco?" The blonde's eyes slowly met Dumbledore's. "Is there anything you would like to tell us before we continue?" Draco opened his mouth, unable to speak. A short breath that had caught in his throat was all he could manage. Still unbelieving his situation, Draco lowered his eyes and shook his head.  
  
Saddened, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "Very well." He returned his attentions to Professor Snape, who had calmed down considerably. "May I have the wand, Severus?"  
  
Almost too politely, Snape held out the weapon in question. Draco could feel his professor's gaze; it pierced a hole through him. The shame was too much. He was already furious with himself, but he knew the look on Snape's face would be more than he could stomach. The same face his father would soon be making, when the news of his expulsion reached him. Draco sat there, helpless as Dumbledore held his wand - knowing what was to come. The last spell he preformed would soon be shooting out of the wand. 'The last spell I'll ever perform.'  
  
Albus Dumbledore took a deep breath, and exhaled the incantation.  
  
"Priori Incantato"  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The day's events had plagued her, infesting her mind with questions. Questions that needed answering. It had been over a year since there had been any attempts on Harry's life, which was a good thing. But why now? And at Hogwarts? It didn't make sense. If Voldemort was trying to kill Harry again, surely he would've used an unforgivable curse - one that Harry wouldn't have been able to block. But that would require Voldemort to actually be INSIDE school grounds! And that wasn't possible - not without Dumbledore knowing. So, it couldn't be Voldemort. Right? Arrrgh.  
  
Hermione's head hurt. She had been replaying the scene over and over again in her mind. Harry was fine one minute, and on the ground the next. She rolled over onto her side, one arm under her head. 'Ron seems convinced that Malfoy's behind it. Harry said in the infirmary that he didn't know what had happened.' A prank, he called it.  
  
"Some prank." She sighed and looked at her alarm clock. 3:28 "I really need to get to sleep." She closed her eyes and tried to stop the thoughts from bombarding around in her head - but to no avail. Thoughts of Ron kept creeping back into her mind. The look of concern on his face as he sat by Harry's side; the way his nose twitched with worry; how red his face got when he asked her for help -  
  
Hermione's eyes popped open. She had almost forgotten about that. 'I wonder what he wanted?' She closed her eyes and tried to remember what it was he had said. He was nervous - but he's always nervous - his ears went red - and he said - something about a dream - just like Harry.  
  
Hermione's eyes popped open again, a bit wider this time. Her pulse quickening slightly as she put two and two together. 'He was nervous, his ears went red, he needed my help about a dream. Then earlier, yesterday, Harry was nervous, his face went red, and he needed help about a dream. They've both been all fidgety - Harry was flirty in the Library - hell, he was in the Library period - Oh my God.' Suddenly, all the worry from Harry's attack flowed out of her and was replaced by feeling of giddiness. An astonished smile crept onto Hermione's face.  
  
"They've been dreaming about me!" Her voice was barely audible, as it had gone soft from the sheer shock of it all. Lucky for her, considering she wasn't alone in the room.  
  
"'Mione!"  
  
"Aaaah!" Hermione jumped away from the unseen voice in front of her. "Who's there?!?"  
  
A red-haired decapitated head emerged from its' invisibility and grinned at her. "Hallo."  
  
She sighed in relief before reaching over and smacking him one.  
  
"Oww!" Ron's face grimaced. "What was that for?"  
  
Suddenly aware of herself, Hermione pulled the covers up around her - shielding her from whatever intentions Ron had for being in her room this late at night. Only later would she realize how silly it must've looked. "Never mind what it was for - what are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh right." Ron reached inside the invisibility cloak he had snatched from Harry's trunk, but quickly stopped him self and looked around. "Not here."  
  
A couple of Gryffindor's shifted in their sleep, alerting Hermione that they weren't the only ones in the room.  
  
"Let's go to the Common Room." Snatching her robe, she followed Ron, or what she assumed was Ron, out of the Girl's dormitory. Once safely out of earshot, Hermione raised her voice. "Now, what on earth is so important that you had to roust me out of bed?" Instantly, her thoughts went back to her earlier epiphany, turning her ears pink.  
  
Ron opened the Invisibility Cloak and motioned for her to join him. "In here."  
  
Her heart racing, though she would later swear that it wasn't, Hermione tentatively joined him inside the cloak. 'Oh no. Okay - relax.'  
  
Once inside the protection of the cloak, Hermione tried to loosen up. But it wasn't working. Her insides were knotted up, and something the size of a Quaffle was churning in the pit of her stomach. She had been this close to Ron millions of times, but never before was it this nerve-wracking. He smelled wonderful. Even his voice sent her hormones soaring.  
  
"'Mione-" His eyes met hers.  
  
"Yes, Ron?" Her heart was somehow creeping up into her throat.  
  
"Look-"  
  
This was it. He was going to confess! "Yes, Ron?"  
  
"No, LOOK-" He held up a piece of parchment, waving it in her face.  
  
"Wha? - oh." It was the Marauder's Map. Disheartened, and feeling like a complete idiot, Hermione gave it back to him. "What about it?"  
  
Annoyed that she wasn't as excited as he was, Ron shook it and pointed. "LOOK! Look there!" He frantically pointed at the little dot that had gone stationary in Dumbledore's office. It was more than obvious that Ron was pleased with himself, and was completely oblivious to Hermione's disappointment.  
  
"Oh. OH!" Hermione took the map back with a sudden flick of her wrist. "You were right."  
  
"I know I was right!" He was beaming.  
  
"It was Malfoy."  
  
"Who else?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Bet he's getting a reaming, eh?"  
  
Ron's head nodded enthusiastically, sending Hermione into a fit of giggles.  
  
"Bye Bye Malfoy."  
  
~*~  
  
Draco tried to close his eyes, tried to shield the final blow to his scholastic career, but he couldn't look away. Dumbledore had performed the incriminating incantation, and he was left there - red handed. All he could do was watch the silver smoke curl out of his wand and point the finger. A bright light suddenly filled Dumbledore's office, and then there was nothing.  
  
Nothing but the complete and utter shock on Draco's face.  
  
'Wait,' Draco tried to make sense of it all. 'That wasn't the curse, that was-'  
  
"Lumos." Albus Dumbledore handed the 'seemingly innocent' wand back to Malfoy and sighed. "Apparently, not all dreams can be accurate. I'm sorry to have disturbed your sleep, Draco. It seems this all has been in vain."  
  
Draco took the wand back, his hands shaking, his nerves shot. "Thank - than you, Headmaster."  
  
"Come, Mr. Malfoy. Time for you to go back to bed." Snape had risen and was ushering Draco out the door.  
  
Malfoy wasted no time in getting up; nodded to his professor, and slinked out of the office. Snape turned to follow, but was stopped short by a stern voice behind him.  
  
"Be careful on those steps, Severus." Albus shot him a look, "The corridors can be awfully dark this time of night."  
  
"I will be, Headmaster. Thank you." He replied, coolly. "Goodnight." And with that, Snape closed the door behind him and took the first deep breath he had taken all night.  
  
~*~  
  
Hey, sorry it's been taking me so long to update! I worked like EVERY day this week! GRRRRRR All work and no play make Moira a testy camper!!! Anyhoo - please read and review!!!! I love all criticisms. Even if they say I suck. Which, luckily, I haven't gotten any of yet. But who knows - there's always the first!  
  
You guys are GREAT!  
  
~Big Hugz~ Moira 


	9. Chapter 9

Warning: Violence, sex, language, more violence, even more language...  
  
A/N: I don't own a damn thing..  
  
Summary: Surprise surprise! Draco weaseled his way out of expulsion!! Unfortunately for him, he has no idea how it happened. Something tells me that a tall, dark and brooding professor may have some answers - read on.  
  
Side note: Many thanks go out to my readers! You guys are brilliant! Thanks so much! *big hug to Frannie*  
  
~*~  
  
"Mione! Look! They're on the move!" Ron was having a difficult time keeping his voice down.  
  
"It's just Snape and Malfoy," Hermione deliberately lowered her voice in an attempt to get Ron to follow, "If he's expelled, why isn't Dumbledore with him?" Her finger pointed to the stationary dot that was their beloved Headmaster.  
  
"You know Dumbledore, he's prolly just letting that git spend one last night at Hogwarts." Hermione could easily make out the young boy's grin in the moonlight. "And I for one am thankful he did! Can't wait to see his face at breakfast!"  
  
"We don't know anything yet, Ron. He may not have been expelled at all." Hermione knew that Ron wouldn't buy it, but she still had to make an effort to be logical.  
  
"Bullocks!" Ron's fingers violently bounced around Snape and Malfoy, who were slowly making their way back to the dungeons. "If I had just escaped an expulsion, there's no WAY I'd be walking that slow!"  
  
"Ron! If you rip a hole in that map-" Hermione hissed as she scolded him. "Harry'll kill you!"  
  
A dumb grin spread across Ron's face. "Not to worry, 'Mione. I've got you with me, after all."  
  
Hermione desperately hoped the blackened room would hide the blood that was racing to her face - for she was sure that she resembled a beet just then. "You - you really think I could fix it?"  
  
"Not really, no." The grin got a bit wider. "But you would distract Harry just long enough for me to run awayOW!!"  
  
For once in her life, Hermione didn't really care how much noise Ron made, as she was positive that her fist hitting his skull would be louder.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco made his way down the stairs from Dumbledore's office, each step he took heavier than the first. The last half hour was a blur. The only thing he knew for certain was that he wasn't expelled. Just HOW he wasn't expelled still eluded him, but he had his suspicions. Draco didn't dare turn around; for fear that he might be called back up again.  
  
Professor Snape walked along behind him, not making a sound. They descended the staircase together in silence. Not the same foreboding silence that had rung in his ears on their earlier ascent - but silence all the same. As if a storm had just blown over. Only when they were a safe distance from Dumbledore's office did Draco dare to speak.  
  
"Professor-" Still not making eye contact, Draco tried to find the words that had been piling up in his head. He had no intention of giving himself away, but he had a feeling that Snape already knew his guilt. "That spell- "  
  
"-was not yours." Snape finished for him. And it appeared that it was all he was going to say. Draco nodded, and kept walking. So they walked together; a knowing silence between them. They had made their way to the dungeons when Snape spoke up.  
  
"You will be spending your detention with me. Every night, after dinner, for a month-"  
  
Draco opened his mouth to speak - whether in protest or in acknowledgement we'll never know - for Snape cut him off too quickly. The "seemingly calm" professor wheeled around till he was only centimeters from Draco's face.  
  
"Not...A...Word. " The few strands of hair that had fallen in his face made him look like a caged animal. The fact that he was speaking through clenched teeth didn't help, either.  
  
"You've already fallen once today Mr. Malfoy - I do not plan on being there to pick you up again." Snape held his gaze for a moment, making it alarmingly clear that this had been a one time deal, and that any talk of it afterwards would be suicide.  
  
Sure that his point had been taken, Professor Snape slowly turned on his heel and walked away. Leaving Malfoy alone in the dungeon to catch his breath.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Well, not his bed per- say. The Infirmary's cots were a far cry from his Gryffindor bed, but they were always comfortable enough in the past. But not tonight. The bruise that was forming on his stomach alarmed him - alarmed him enough to not want to go back to sleep. Not till he had figured out some answers.  
  
The sharp pain in his belly reminded him of how little he actually knew about the amulet. What it could do. How powerful it was. The little bits of information he had were vague to say the least. Professor Trelawney never was a stickler for details. It didn't help that she had been half asleep when she gave it to him.  
  
He briefly considered asking her for more information, but quickly rejected the idea. He had been in possession of the amulet for a couple of days now - soon she'd be asking for it back. If she even remembered giving it to him in the first place. Besides, he had unfinished business with a certain blonde who had proved - difficult.  
  
"No. I can't give it back. Not yet."  
  
The thought of losing *his* amulet so quick into the game made him sick to his stomach. It was the answer to all of his desperate prayers. He felt alive when he used it - more alive than he'd felt in a really, really, REALLY long time. He wasn't about to give it back. Not soon, anyhow. *Or ever*  
  
Harry shook his head in an attempt to forget, and an immediate headache followed. Malfoy's little "parting gift" in the form of a kick to the head was starting to make itself known. The right side of his face was starting to swell, and he was sure a bruise would be visible by morning. The bruise on his stomach would be easy enough to hide - but a footprint on his face? That would take some explaining.  
  
The fall he had taken during dinner should suffice as a cover, but only if Madam Pomfrey was feeling gullible. He'd just have to wait and see.  
  
Harry rolled over onto his side; making sure his "good side" was visible to Madam Pomfrey if she decided to make a late-night round. His thoughts drifted back to the amulet, which had made it's home under his pillow. He slid his hand beneath him and felt for it. 'Just making sure.' It was still there. But his hand did not pull away. He laid there, his fingers memorizing every twist the metal took, every link in the chain - it was comforting.  
  
But it was alarming at the same time. He hadn't considered the possibility that he could be hurt in the dream realm. It hadn't even crossed his mind till - well, till he already was. The "what if's" started seeping in, casting doubts and fears over his *precious* God-sent. But Harry quickly dismissed them. He was too tired to worry anymore that night.  
  
He felt his fingers wrap around the chain, but resisted the urge to put it on. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to feel alive again - but the pain in his stomach spoke more truth than his desires. And luckily, he was coherent enough to listen.  
  
'The Library. I'll go to the Library tomorrow.' He'd try to find his answers there. Meantime, get some sleep.  
  
Harry glanced at the clock in the Infirmary.  
  
4:03  
  
~*~  
  
Severus Snape tried his best to keep calm. And while his exterior kept up the façade, his stomach knew full well the extents of what he had just done. Only when he was in the safety of his quarters did he finally unclench his fists.  
  
Taking solid steps, as to convince himself he was steady, Severus made his way to the cabinet, opened it and searched for the only thing that would give him solace. An illegally imported bottle of Albanian Fire Whiskey found its way into his hands. He poured himself a glass, downed it, and began to pour another as he sat by the fireplace. The fire that burned in his throat calmed his mind - providing a brief moment of clarity - enough for him to realize what had just happened.  
  
He had willfully "altered" evidence - evidence that would have proved a certain young Slytherin's guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. He had broken almost every rule a Professor at Hogwarts was sworn to uphold. And what was worse, he had lied to the one man who ever trusted him.  
  
He had risked his job, and in turn, his life, for what? For keeping his prize pupil away from certain expulsion. It seemed so trivial when it was put like that. But he knew better. It wasn't the expulsion, or the shame it would've put on Draco's family that forced Severus to go against his better judgment. It was much more complex than simple answers could sell.  
  
Severus sat back in his chair, head in hands, and sighed.  
  
This house of cards that he had built around himself grew more and more unstable every day. One wrong move, and it would fall - to the destruction of everyone and everything he knew.  
  
He hated himself for it. For the decisions he had made in his youth; for the consequences those decisions had reared; and for the destructive path he had laid out for himself and ever since had been forced to follow. He had become a necessary evil.  
  
If fate existed, and everything he had been through was for a purpose, Severus was sure that this was it. This destructive cycle of loyalty and deceit had finally come to a crossroads. A decision had to be made. Severus could only pray that his betrayal to Dumbledore would not be in vain.  
  
He had wasted too much time already. The Dark Lord's plan was already in motion. If he didn't act soon, Voldemort would rise to power, again - and the price of his silence would be too great. To great for even Lucius Malfoy to pay off. He hoped that he had bought himself enough time to prepare a counter-strike - even if it meant losing his job. It was imperative for Voldemort to trust him, now more than ever. Draco's young life depended on it.  
  
He had a plan, but it was shaky. There were too many unknown variables in play for it to be foolproof. And he needed help. The thought of who's help he needed brought bile to his lips. All he knew for certain was Draco...Draco could not be allowed to leave Hogwarts. Not yet.  
  
He had unconsciously begun to pour himself another glass, only to find that his hands were not steady enough to follow through. Whiskey was everywhere. In a blind moment of rage, Severus hurled the bottle at the fireplace, barely wincing as it shattered.  
  
And he watched - he watched in stoic meditation as the flames consumed the shattered remnants of his failed attempt at peace. His eyes were cold - the fire danced in their reflection. It would be a while before he could blink again.  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Allrighty, kids... any thoughts? Criticisms? I'm all ears over here! 


	10. Chapter 10

Warning: MAN ON MAN ACTION! Heh Violence, language, you name it - we got it.  
  
A/N: I own nothing. NOTHING! You hear me?!?! ... wish I did, though.  
  
Summary: Duh, Duh, DUN! Holy smokes! Could it be? Another twist in the plot!?! Yes my darlings, Moira felt it was time to play her lil' trump card. Hopefully, it didn't come too late. And, hopefully you're not too confused to stop reading. That would be sad. So, here's the summary: Draco got off. (heh - not that way, you lil' perverts) Harry's afraid. Hermione's frustrated. Ron's clueless. And Snape - well, Snape's practically shitting himself. So, that said - on to the good stuff!  
  
Side note: I wanted to take a second to thank my reviewers. I've seen other people do it, and it's kind of a nice reward system. Sort of. Anyway, it's cool to be recognized. By the way, I'm thanking those who've reviewed since Ch. 6 - sorry for those who reviewed before that! I still love you!  
  
Alligator: Thanks! Yeah, it's about time Harry was evil. And yes, it is delicious, isn't it? And for your question about Harry "doing" Hermione? We'll just have to wait and see.  
  
Tarathol: Thank you! And no, you don't suck at suggestions. You just don't give any. *evil grin* Nasty Harry...nasty Draco...makes you feel good, don't it?  
  
Grey Malfoy: Heh...you think my story kicks ass! You kick ass!  
  
Morri: Thank you for pointing that similarity out! I hadn't thought of the amulet in respect to "the ring". But I needed to see it - so thanks for bringing it to my attention! And I must say, I'm all shades of embarrassed at my typo. I shall correctly spell "bollocks" from now on. *grin*  
  
Red: I'm so happy you find it interesting. The plot bunny kind of nipped at me till I finally caved and wrote the damn thing. Thanks!  
  
Icarus: So much to say - not enough space. Thank you for reviewing! I ALWAYS look forward to your comments and suggestions. I only hope that I do a similar job for you. *grin*  
  
Dragonsbane: My Dahling! You've been so great to me! Your reviews ALWAYS get me chuckling. "Snape sooooooooooooo knew didn't he?" I love you! *big grin*  
  
Franthephoenix: *sniff sniff* My first reviewer. Cheers to you my sweet! I'm happy to hear that you returned safely from your lil' adventure. And yes, the Foo Fighters ROCK!  
  
*stretches hands due to sudden cramping*  
  
Sorry that took so damn long!  
  
Right then. The story.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco awoke the next morning with a headache the size of Professor Sprout's ass. But besides the constant throbbing in his temples, he felt good. He felt better than good. He felt invincible. Last night's ordeal seemed miles away as the young blonde stretched his good mornings to an empty room. He jumped out of bed and staggered a few steps before regaining his poise - it wasn't proper for a Malfoy to show anything but dignity and grace, even so soon after waking. And Draco was feeling every-bit a Malfoy.  
  
He always knew, even from a young age, that his birthright would allow him certain privileges. His father had made it quite clear that he was only to expect the best - as his father expected the best from him. Only in that moment did Draco truly realize what he had meant. Expulsion? What expulsion? There would BE no severe consequences for him. Not as long as he fulfilled the expectations that had been laid out for him since birth. Snape had made himself more than clear in that respect. He was being protected - from high up, it seemed.  
  
Draco crossed the empty dormitory and made his way to the lavatory. A scalding shower would do wonders for his headache, he mused. After stripping down to the essentials, Draco stepped into the ebony cocoon, turned the silver snake-ridden knobs, and relished in the hot water that sprayed onto him from all directions.  
  
Draco closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against the wall, enjoying the sensation of a thousand scalding beads of water beat across his chest, back and thighs. It was soothing. His mind relaxed and began to wander, letting his guard down in the process. Complete relaxation had its price. The one person he had tried to disregard all morning somehow found his way into Draco's head and made camp. Potter. Harry-Fucking- Potter.  
  
All the muscles in Draco's back and neck suddenly tensed; his dreamy smirk faded, replaced by the beginnings of a well-worn scowl. That bastard. It was that idiotic do-gooder's fault his good name had nearly been tarnished in the first place. But how did he know? Better yet, how did he manage to convince Dumbledore? With a dream? HA! 'That dried up cook would believe anything his "infallible" little Harry came up with.'  
  
Draco's hands were balled up into fists as he moved his head directly under the spray. The water that cascaded down his face did little to help his frustration. If anything, absurdly, it angered him more. Draco hit the side of the shower with his fist, then tenderly brought it back against his chest. His headache was back, and was quickly joined by a dull ache in his knuckles.  
  
"Damnit."  
  
No matter what he did, that little fuck always managed to get under his skin. If anything, it proved to be a great motivator. Ignoring his aching body, Draco began plotting. Plotting his revenge, for the revenge Harry took upon him, for taking his revenge in the first place. A look of amusement washed over Draco's face.  
  
"What a vicious circle we spin."  
  
~*~  
  
Lunch was nearly halfway through by the time Draco graced the Great Hall with his presence. Almost every head at the Slytherin table turned at his entry. Smug faces with knowing looks greeted Draco as he sat. 'Word travels fast, it would seem.' After all, it wasn't every day certain expulsion got brushed off like lint on a cloak. Not every day, that is, unless you're in Gryffindor.  
  
The Slytherin's were not the only students to take notice of Malfoy's arrival. Draco scanned the crowds, searching for a certain mudblood and her weasel. He found them easily enough, their jaws appropriately slacked enough to draw flies. An empty seat to their right. It warmed his black little heart to see them so distressed. Draco inwardly commentaried as their expressions evolved.  
  
'First comes disbelief, then denial - ah yes, mudblood, good likeness - then anger - oh, good show Weasley!'  
  
Ron's face had gone eight shades of red, and it looked as though steam were about to pour out of his ears. His death stare did little but cause Draco to smile ever so sweetly in his direction.  
  
'Looks like last nights' escapades were not in vain, after all.'  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione nudged Ron as Malfoy entered the Great Hall. The two Gryffindors grinned enthusiastically as they prepared to watch Draco bitch and moan about his expulsion. The very thought of Hogwarts being rid of that slimy git had kept them up a good portion of the night. However, his expression was not what they had hoped it would be.  
  
"He looks-"  
  
"-happy!"  
  
"But-"  
  
"-he-"  
  
"-Dumbleore-"  
  
"-no-"  
  
"-he couldn't-"  
  
"-no-"  
  
"-he did-"  
  
"-slimy-"  
  
"-no good-"  
  
"Bastard!"  
  
Ron's fist made contact with the table with a resounding "thud" - sending a good portion of his lunch flying and almost hitting Neville in the head. Neither he nor Hermione noticed. They were too busy glaring. It took another "grand entrance" to get their attention.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
The entire Gryffindor table turned at once, half of them jumping up to greet their long-lost hero. And they weren't the only ones, as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs followed in suit. Even some of the Slytherins turned to watch the commotion. Once again, Draco Malfoy was one-upped by the illustrious Harry Potter - and all he did was walk in the room.  
  
Crabe looked at him thoughtfully. Well, as thoughtful as a 200 lb thug can look. Draco snapped out of his funk in time to belittle his companion.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Nu...nothing Draco." Goyle punched him in the arm. "I just..."  
  
"You just...what?"  
  
"I just thought that maybe you'd...you know...wanna embarrass him." Crabe's gaze had made its way to the floor and was now boring holes into it.  
  
"Tempting, but no. The Gryffindorks seem to be doing a good enough job already."  
  
Draco wasn't far off from the truth. Ginny had her arms wrapped around Harry's neck, while Neville and Seamus took turns clapping him on the back.  
  
"-had us worried, Harry!"  
  
"All right there, Harry?"  
  
"Welcome back Harry!"  
  
"Quite a bruise you got there, Harry!"  
  
Harry pleadingly looked to his friends for assistance. No matter how many times he's come home "the hero", he'd never get used to the welcome it involved. On cue, Hermione ushered the embarrassed Gryffindor away from his admirers.  
  
Ron was the first to speak. "How're you doing, mate?"  
  
"Fine, I guess. My head's a little sore, still. But other than that..." Harry gingerly rubbed his fingers against the nasty bruise that had formed on the side of his head. His hair mostly covered it, but the bluish-purple reminder was still visible.  
  
Hermione gasped when she saw it. "Your face!"  
  
"I know. Looks bad, doesn't it?"  
  
"Bad's not the word." Ron's face matched Hermione's, though his eyes bugged out a bit more.  
  
"Really. I'm fine." Harry began eating, hoping to change the subject. "Anything happen while I was out?"  
  
Ron and Hermione shared a look, each one not knowing what to say.  
  
Harry caught on and stopped mid-chew. "What?"  
  
The look on Ron's face told Hermione that it clearly was her turn to explain things. Besides, she was always better at it anyway.  
  
"Malfoy got taken up to Dumbledore's office last night."  
  
Harry's face lit up immediately. "Really? That's great!"  
  
"Not really, Harry. See..." Hermione tried to continue but Ron interrupted.  
  
"We thought he'd be expelled. But, well...look at him."  
  
At that, Harry looked up at Draco, who was smirking and laughing and carrying on in his usual asinine manner. He didn't look like he had just been kicked out of the best Wizarding School in the world. The way he was carrying on, he might as well have been made Head Boy.  
  
Harry quietly chuckled as he watched. The story he had spun to Madam Pomfrey hadn't worked quite as well as he had thought, it would seem. Ah well. One wrong deed deserved another. 'Touché.'  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Yeah, you're taking this rather well!" Ron looked at him indignantly.  
  
"I'm sorry. It's just that-" Harry looked at them, wondering if he should tell them. "-I had this dream."  
  
"Yeah?" "Really?" Both Ron and Hermione chimed in at the same time, both looking a bit too eager.  
  
"Yeah..." Caught off guard by their enthusiasm, Harry looked at them wryly.  
  
Ron cleared his throat loudly. "A dream. What about?" Hermione just blushed.  
  
"I had a dream where Malfoy admitted to cursing me. It all seemed so real..." Harry tried his best to conceal a grin. "So, when I woke, I told Madam Pomfrey."  
  
"Well, that explains why Snape took him to see Dumbledore last night." Hermione nodded as to confirm her words.  
  
"But it doesn't give us a clue as to how that bastard got out of it!" Ron picked at his food. "I was SURE he was gonna get his come-uppins."  
  
Harry elbowed his friend. "He will, Ron. He will."  
  
~*~  
  
Harry and Draco pretended to be oblivious of the other's existence for the remainder of lunch. Every once in a while, one would feel the other's eyes on them, but wouldn't look up in time to catch him. It was only after Harry had left to go back to the dormitory that Draco made his move.  
  
He had made it halfway to the Fat Lady when he heard a sneer. Half smirking himself, Harry turned around.  
  
"Well, well, well...if it isn't Potty...back from the dead." Draco lazily walked up to him.  
  
"If you think that lame excuse of a curse would kill me, Malfoy, you're losing your touch."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Draco casually trimmed his nails.  
  
"No. You usually don't."  
  
A mock look of concern took hold of Draco's face. "Didn't your daddy ever tell you it's not wise to underestimate your opponent? Oh!" He held a hand to his face. "No, I suppose he never got the chance."  
  
"A jab at my tragic history? How cliché. Such a blatant lack of creativity." Harry smirked. "Crabe and Goyle must be rubbing off on you. Or rubbing you off, either way..."  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Draco wiggled his eyebrows suggestively - unconsciously mocking the same wiggle Harry had thrown at him only hours earlier.  
  
"I prefer HUMAN lovers, thank you." Harry couldn't help but admit how much he was enjoying this. If he could only get the "battle of wits" to move another direction...  
  
"One wouldn't guess...considering the vermin you associate with." Malfoy's snobbish drawl was getting increasingly thicker.  
  
"You're one to talk," Harry moved closer. "Ferret boy."  
  
Draco took a step in. "Scar head."  
  
"Whore monger!"  
  
"Trub fucker!"  
  
By this point, the two had gotten dangerously close to each other. Centimeters from his face, Harry licked his lips.  
  
"You're delicious when you're mad."  
  
"Is that so?" Draco couldn't help but smirk. He could feel his pulse rising.  
  
"Yeah..." - pause - "At least...you were last night."  
  
Draco could only stare at his nemesis. His mouth had gone dry, and any thoughts of a proper comeback left him. His silver eyes betrayed his stoic front - they showed his fear.  
  
"You're sexier when you dance, though."  
  
And with that, Harry turned around and walked away. Before he was out of sight, he called out over his shoulder...  
  
"You will let me know about those ballet slippers, won't you?"  
  
And then he was gone.  
  
Again. For the second time that day, Draco was left breathless in the hallways of Hogwarts.  
  
~*~ 


	11. Chapter 11

Warning: Hell, do I need a warning anymore? You've read this far - you know the drill.  
  
A/N: You recognize it? J.K owns it.  
  
Summary: No real plot update in that last chapter. Sorry 'bout that. Just a bit of fun was needed. It was getting too serious. *grin* Harry's getting braver in his banter with Draco. Could he finally be growing some balls? Ron and Hermione are silently kicking themselves for almost giving themselves away - and are considerably pissed for Malfoy's release. Draco's still bug-eyed in the hallway. And Snape? Who knows? Somewhere in the dungeons I would imagine.  
  
Charzy: Thanks! It's an author's job to keep her readers on their toes, is it not? *grin* Glad you liked it.  
  
Morri: I'm feelin' the vibes! Though, it was difficult to decipher them underneath all the turkey I've just eaten... *burp* Hope the update was quick enough for ya!  
  
Red: You know what? I'm curious as to how this is going to end up too! *laughs* Damn, is that a bad sign? Thanks for reading!  
  
Paul: You're hooked, huh? *giggles* I'm starting to feel like a dealer, over here... *grin* Makes me smile to know that you've enjoyed it this far... hope I don't disappoint!  
  
Me3gogi: *blushes madly* My goodness! I've never had a reviewer like you before! *grins* Thank you soooo very much for your kind words! Keep 'em up! Flattery will get you EVERYWHERE... *bow to you*  
  
Dragonsbane: Damn the man! You write whatever length chapters you want hon! *grins and thrusts her fist out in the air* Erm...yeah.  
  
Frannie: So glad to hear you're feelin' better!! T'was worried for a bit. *smile* Hehehehehehe...yeah, I kinda like that first sentence, m'self. I mean, c'mon! Professor Sprout has a big ass! But then again, so do I...  
  
Many thanks go out to my readers! Even those who don't feel like reviewing... been there m'self.  
  
And, to quote my good buddie Dragonsbane:  
  
On wif da story!  
  
~*~  
  
Seconds seemed to pass like days as Draco stood there, mouth agape, disbelieving his lack of creativity in the battle that had just ended. The battle he had just lost. That was twice now Potter had left him speechless. Fuck creativity...where was his control? On instinct, Draco composed himself; making sure his robes were straight and his hair was on tight - then promptly kicked the wall.  
  
It was no mystery as to why Potter kept winning these little "mêlées" - Draco was letting him win. Not on purpose, mind you. No, that little four-eyed-freak kept coming up with "one- liners" that did nothing but perplex him, leaving him befuddled, thus - silent. "If you can't say something nice..."  
  
Confound it all! Potter wasn't fighting fair! Draco managed a marred smirk at the thought. 'Would've made a good Slytherin.'  
  
Talk about lack of creativity... "You will let me know about those ballet slippers, won't you?" What the fuck was that supposed to mean? How does one effectively respond when the other is talking nonsense? 'The eagle flies low at midnight...' Draco chuckled to himself. If Potter kept it up, he'd be locked away in a padded room before the semester's up.  
  
'Well, that'd be one way of winning...' Draco smiled as he headed to the dormitory. 'But where's the fun in that?'  
  
~*~  
  
Harry had to muster all the self-control he had to make it around the corner in once piece. 'Calm...cool...collected.' He repeated it over and over again, counting the steps to the corner. 'Four...three...two...one...' Once properly out of sight, Harry jumped and did a little happy dance.  
  
He was lucky the rest of Hogwarts was still at lunch, for he must've made quite the scene just then. Bounding around the hall, jumping off of walls, just short of yelling his triumphant victory to the whole school. One thought made its way from his head to his lips - "Yes."  
  
Realizing how stupid he would look, but not really caring at that moment, Harry did a cartwheel.  
  
His elated state was cut short by the sharp pain that erupted from his stomach. The pain was gone in an instant - but was there long enough for him to remember his job for the day. Quickly, and without another thought, Harry made a B-line for the library.  
  
~*~  
  
As usual, the Library was practically empty. It seemed no one made use of Hogwart's extensive collection of books on the weekend - well, no one except Hermione. But even his bookworm of a best friend was nowhere to be found. It was better this way, Harry mused. The less explanation, the better.  
  
The silence was deafening. Every step he took seemed to echo throughout the room - alerting Madam Pince of his presence. Something he would rather NOT do. Harry hoped he wouldn't have to go to the restricted section for information about the amulet, but he always ended up there. Why was it that everything that was somehow valuable or connected to his life in the restricted section? Probably the fates' idea of a good joke.  
  
As he scanned the shelves, Harry realized that he had no idea where to start looking. Every other time he'd been here, he was with Hermione, and she already knew where to go. The one time he came alone, back in his first year, he'd nearly been caught by Filch and had broken his best lantern in the process. Harry always took Hermione with him after that.  
  
Tentatively, Harry made his way over to Madam Pince, who was busy rebinding a book that had had the cover torn off it. He could hear her muttering under her breath. "...blasted Longbottom...scares too easily...last time I'll do this without charging..." Harry hated to interrupt her, but he needed some help - and it seemed she was the only person around to do it.  
  
"Umm, excuse me, Madam Pince?"  
  
The haggard woman looked up, and irritable expression already on her face. "Yes?"  
  
"I was wondering..." Harry tried to think of the best way to phrase his question without giving too much away. "Where could I go to research information on amulets?"  
  
Gruffly, and without blinking, Madam Pince pointed to the large book that stood alone on a large podium in the center of the Library. Harry smiled, still confused, and made his way to the book.  
  
How had he not noticed this before? The podium itself had to be made of oak, very old oak, and it spiraled up at least ten feet. How was he supposed reach it? Then he noticed a large brass square right in front of the podium, with the words "Stand on me" etched on it. Cautiously, Harry took a step in and centered himself directly on the square. He barely had time to think "What now?" before the square shot up, shooting him upwards at lightning speeds before promptly halting again. Harry thanked the Gods for his ability to balance, as it would've been too easy to fall off. After his pulse had returned to normal, Harry looked down at the book that was now easily accessible. Well, maybe not easily - considering it took such odd measures to get to it in the first place.  
  
He studied the book for what seemed to be an eternity. All the pages were blank, and there was a large feathered quill neatly resting in its brass ink well, and nothing else. Not wanting to look stupid, but not having any ideas as to what to do either, Harry tried to get Madam Pince's attention.  
  
"Ummm, excuse me? Madam Pince?"  
  
No reaction.  
  
"Madam Pince?" A little louder this time.  
  
Still no reaction.  
  
Harry took in a deep breath and broke the single most important rule in a library. He yelled.  
  
"MADAM PINCE?"  
  
Suddenly, as if a heart attack had just gripped her, the shocked librarian dropped the book she was repairing. It made a loud "THUD" as it hit her desk, and then the floor. Then slowly, methodically, she turned and looked at Harry - who was turning a light pink by this time.  
  
"Ummm...sorry. What do I do now?"  
  
Even though she was a good thirty feet away, Harry could hear her sigh.  
  
"Write down your question. The book will do the rest."  
  
Harry nodded his thanks and quickly turned back to the book. He picked up the quill, dabbed a few drops of ink back into the well, and wrote down his question.  
  
'I need to find information on Amulets.'  
  
Soon after he wrote the words down, they dissolved into the paper. Harry shuddered as he remembered the last time he encountered a book that ate his words. Not wanting to re-hatch the past, Harry concentrated on the paper. Suddenly, his response dissolved.  
  
'Put down the quill.'  
  
Harry furrowed his brow, but obeyed. The words dissolved, and new ones appeared.  
  
'Brace yourself.'  
  
Not quite sure what was going on, Harry was about to turn around to Madam Pince again, but was quickly distracted by the sound of books being torn off the shelves. He barely had a chance to prepare himself before a book flew around a corner and into the air. It was headed straight for him. Lucky for Harry his reflexes were good and he caught it without much trouble. Soon another book flew at him. Then another. And another. Before it was all over with, Harry's upper half was lost under a pile of books. The brass square he was standing on slowly lowered back to its original position, and he was on solid ground again. Carefully, Harry carried the teetering pile of books to the nearest table, trying his best not to make any more noise. He was sure he could hear Madam Pince chuckling in the background.  
  
Harry spent a good two hours looking through the books he had been given, but found nothing on AroMankin's Amulet. He was about to give up when he checked the "master list" the book at the top of the podium had given him. So far, everything had checked out. He had all the books the library had on Amulets...all except one.  
  
"Præbias Potens"  
  
Harry checked and re-checked to make sure it wasn't there. It wasn't. Convinced this was the book he needed, though he had no idea as to what the title meant, Harry made his way over to Madam Pince.  
  
"I'm sorry to keep disturbing you," Her eyes met his. "But there was a book on this list that didn't, um, arrive."  
  
Scowling, Madam Pince scanned the list. "Which one, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry pointed it out as she let out a small laugh.  
  
"It's in the restricted section, isn't it?" His frustration was evident.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter, it is." She turned her head back to what she was doing, and Harry took that as his cue to leave - till she kept speaking.  
  
"Not that it would do you too much good, anyway."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Madam Pince simply stated, "It's been checked out."  
  
Harry stared at her. "Checked out?"  
  
"Am I speaking too softly for you, Mr. Potter?" The sarcastic edge in her voice was one that could rival Professor Snape's on a good day. "Or have you gone deaf from all your yelling?"  
  
"No, I heard you. Sorry to have bothered you." Harry slumped his shoulders in defeat and left.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron and Hermione had given up looking for Harry after hours of searching high and low for him. He was too good at hiding, and Hogwarts was a big castle. They were both worried for their friend, but they knew him too well - he'd find them when he was ready. Besides, they were preoccupied in a good game of chess.  
  
Ron was hunched over the chess board, one knee up on the oversized chair, his elbow neatly rested on his knee, hand softly running over his chin - deep in thought.  
  
"Will you PLEASE move?"  
  
His eyes flickered up for a moment, obviously not amused. "I will when I'm ready."  
  
Moments of silence passed before Hermione spoke again.  
  
"That's it. I win by default."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You're taking too long." Hermione's glare was indignant.  
  
"I am not taking too long, and if you must know..." His cheeks getting flushed. "It's all part of my strategy."  
  
"What...bore your opponent to death? Some strategy..."  
  
"Just because you know nothing about chess doesn't give you the right to criticize a master in his element."  
  
Hermione had to choke back her laughter.  
  
"Master?!? You consider yourself a MASTER?"  
  
Ron cocked his head in mock-wonder. "Who was it again who got us through the chess board our first year? Hmmmm...let me think...not Harry...not YOU...oh yes. ME!" Ron moved his Queen three spaces. "Your move."  
  
"If I remember correctly, you about got yourself killed." Hermione sat up in her chair. "And if I may REMIND YOU - you wouldn't have lived long enough to even GET to the chess board if I hadn't saved your sorry arse from the Devil's Snare!" Hermione countered with her Bishop - 2 spaces. "Your move."  
  
"Oh yes - thank you so very much." Ron also began to rise... "The next time a petunia attacks me, I'll know who to call."  
  
The blood in Hermione's veins was pumping so furiously by that point that she was sure an artery would burst at any moment. That didn't stop her, though.  
  
"If you think for one moment, Ronald Weasley, that I would EVER stop what I was doing to go and help your pathetic, sorry-excuse of a wizard ARSE - you've got another thing coming!"  
  
"Checkmate."  
  
~pause~  
  
"What?!"  
  
Ron was grinning madly as he coolly replied.  
  
"Checkmate."  
  
Hermione got up out of her seat and examined the chessboard.  
  
"But..."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I can still..."  
  
"No."  
  
Hermione's jaw dropped. He had beaten her. Not that it was any big surprise, really. He was, in fact, VERY good at chess. Not that she'd ever tell him, though. Defeated, Hermione slumped back in her chair. It took her a few moments to finally speak.  
  
"You did that on purpose."  
  
"What?" Ron tried his best to put on an innocent face.  
  
"You got me all riled up, just so I wouldn't see what you were doing."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
The two of them held a moment together before bursting into violent fits of laughter.  
  
"You are such a cheater!"  
  
"That was great! You should've seen your face!"  
  
"I still can't believe I fell for it."  
  
"Oldest trick in the book." Ron wiped a tear away.  
  
Finally, the laughter died down...the occasional "hoo" escaping. There was a silence, but it was a good silence. The sort of silence that only true friends can have without getting uncomfortable. It was in that moment that the thoughts and questions that he had been avoiding began to creep up into Ron's head. Before he had another chance to dismiss them, Ron took a deep breath and spoke.  
  
"Mione?"  
  
Hermione looked up at him, her face still flushed from laughing so hard. "Yes, Ron?"  
  
"I've been meaning to ask you something..."  
  
A chokehold took over her body as Hermione tried to reply as coolly as she could. "Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah...it's about these dreams I've been having." Ron swallowed. "I think...I think I need your help."  
  
Hermione looked at him longingly, eager to hear what he had to say. The butterflies in her stomach were bound to get loose if she opened her mouth - so she just nodded. Vigorously.  
  
Ron was starting to fidget. This looked to be really hard for him to say. 'How adorable!'  
  
"Before I say anything, I want you to know...well...I need to know that we'll still be friends." Ron looked at her pleadingly.  
  
"Of course, Ron. I'll always be your friend, no matter what." Hermione tried her best to keep her voice from wavering.  
  
"This is just really hard..."  
  
Hermione took his hand in hers.  
  
"You can tell me anything, Ron."  
  
Ron managed a weak smile and took a deep breath.  
  
"Okay."  
  
~Pause~  
  
"I've been having dreams about...Harry."  
  
~Pause~  
  
"Mione?"  
  
~Pause~  
  
"Hermione!?" There was a twinge of panic in his voice.  
  
"Yes...yes...sorry. I'm here. I heard you. I just..." '*Thought you were having dreams about me!*' Hermione tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.  
  
"I just didn't expect that."  
  
Ron sighed. "Yeah, I know. Me neither."  
  
Hermione begrudgingly switched from 'potential lover' to 'good friend.'  
  
"Do you think...I mean...does this mean you're..."  
  
"No!" Ron 'bout jumped out of his seat. "No, I mean...I don't know. I've just had a few dreams about him. I don't know if that makes me...well...you know." His eyes fell to the floor as he pulled at his sleeves.  
  
"Well, how do you feel?"  
  
"I don't feel any different, Mione! I still like him - just as a...well, you know. A friend." Ron's gaze met hers, and it sent shocks down her spine. "I need your help. What do you think it means?"  
  
Hermione paused as she thought. This was a big deal to him - it was pretty obvious that Ron trusted her. It wasn't easy to get the youngest Weasley boy to admit his feelings to ANYONE, but he had chosen her. She couldn't help but feel happy. If she couldn't win his affections, then deepening their friendship was the next best thing.  
  
"I think you should trust your gut."  
  
"What?" Of all the answers Ron was expecting, this certainly wasn't one of them.  
  
"You have instincts for a reason, Ron. If your gut tells you you're not gay, then you're probably not." Hermione smiled at him. "But if it tells you, well, if it tells you differently...then you owe it to yourself to explore that feeling."  
  
"Well, that doesn't help!"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"What did you expect me to say? Go jump on Harry and see what happens?"  
  
"Well no! But..." Ron's face was turning redder by the second. "I'm right back where I started! I kind of expected you to know a spell, or a potion or something..."  
  
Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. "You think there's a spell for these kind of things?"  
  
Ron started laughing as he pictured it. Take this potion, and if you turn blue, you're straight. If you turn red, you're gay. And if you turn purple...  
  
"No, I suppose not." Ron smiled at her. "Thanks."  
  
"So..."  
  
"So..."  
  
"What does your gut say?"  
  
"It says..." Ron looked at her seriously. "I should've finished my lunch. I'm starving!"  
  
It was another fifteen minutes before they could stop laughing.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry made his way down the hall towards the Gryffindor Portrait. He was still royally ticked off for wasting an afternoon in the library, only to find the one book he needed was checked out! From the restricted section, no less! He knew one thing for certain...it was a professor. It had to be. No one else would have clearance. It figured, though. Once again, permission denied. Instead of brooding over the inevitable, Harry decided to focus on more pleasant thoughts... Draco. Technically, it was Malfoy's turn for vengeance - but Harry wasn't about to wait around for that. He had an idea.  
  
As Harry approached the Fat Lady, he could hear laughter coming from the Common Room. A smile found its way to his lips as he recognized the voices.  
  
"Virtus"  
  
The two Gryffindors stopped chuckling when they saw him - one grinning his usual grin, the other scowled.  
  
"Harry, where were you? We looked everywhere for you!"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Sorry, 'Mione. I was in the library."  
  
It took a second for the two to realize he was serious.  
  
"The library?"  
  
"And you didn't ask me to come?"  
  
"Sorry!" Harry tried not to chuckle. "I needed...some alone time."  
  
Ron eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"You're not doing something behind our backs are you?"  
  
"No! Nothing like that...it's just that...well I..." For some odd reason, Harry could spin the best of tales with anyone - ANYONE, that is, except his friends. "I was working on a revenge plot for Malfoy."  
  
Hermione and Ron exchanged a smug smile before they raced over to Harry.  
  
"What do you have in mind?"  
  
"It's nothing illegal, is it?"  
  
Harry motioned for them to all sit down. Once they were huddled around the Gryffindor fireplace, Harry let them in on it. Not all of it - just the parts they needed to know about. Besides, he'd need their help for it to work.  
  
"Okay...Hermione, what do you know about hypnotizing someone?"  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Okay gang! That's ch.11! Let me know what you think!!! I'm all ears over here! R&R!! PLEASE!!! 


	12. Chapter 12

Warning: Sheesh...you know.  
  
A/N: I'm not getting paid.  
  
Summary: Looks like our boy wonder has another plan in store for ol' Draco...hypnosis you say? Oh yes...and it could be fun. No sign of Snape yet, but I'm sure he's lurking in the shadows...somewhere.  
  
  
  
Red: Yeah, I liked the idea as well - Draco's head needed some messing with. Plus, the dream-scenes allowed me QUITE a lot of freedom. *Grin* I'm glad you're enjoying this!  
  
Shadowmistress: *Grins madly and takes your Milkybar* Thanks!! *chomp chomp* I promise, there will be more slash...eventually. I just need it to have a point, you know? Don't get me wrong, I love gratuitous sex as much as the next girl, but I'm trying to get a plot going here. *grins* Keep reading, though! You won't be disappointed.  
  
Morri: You're quite welcome! I'm glad you weren't pissed 'bout the e-mail. I wasn't sure how people would react. "Who the hell is Moira McDUff? And why the hell is she e-mailing me??!?" And man, those vibes...keep 'em coming!  
  
Dragonsbane: La la la la la la? Right on babe. Whatever. *big grin*  
  
Me3gogi: No! Don't leave! You kiss my arse WAY too well for me to want you to leave! *evil grin* I'm kiddin' ya. And you're quite welcome - any excuse not to do homework is a GOOD one in my book. *winks* Love ya too, babe!  
  
Icarus: Wow, my man...what can I say? Your suggestions are HIGHLY appreciated! And, I plan on using them...to the best of my abilities. Somehow I feel like a kid around you...does that make any sense? "Uncle Icarus! Uncle Icarus! Teach me how to write good!!" *grin*  
  
Fran!: You can't do cartwheels? Don't feel too bad, though. I can't whistle. *lowers forehead in shame* Hey, let me know about that Karate, though. I need a good ass-kickin! And no, your nickname is NOT incredibly stupid. Just mildly stupid. *winks* Hey, and thanks for updating!!!  
  
Okay *whew* on with the goods...  
  
~*~  
  
"Hypnosis?"  
  
Harry simply nodded, an impish grin on his face.  
  
"Well, technically, hypnosis is an artificially induced altered state of consciousness, characterized by heightened suggestibility and receptivity to direction. Some of the earliest recordings of hypnosis are found in Egypt. The oldest written record of cures by hypnosis was obtained from the Ebers Papyrus which gives us an idea about some of the theory and practice of Egyptian medicine before 1552 BC..." Hermione took a breath. "Why? What do you want to know about it?"  
  
Harry crossed his arms over his chest, shook his head and chuckled. Ron simply stared.  
  
"What?" A blank look crossed Hermione's face.  
  
"No matter how many times I've seen you do that, I don't think I'll ever get used to it."  
  
It took a moment for Ron's round-a-bout compliment to sink in. A small smile graced Hermione's lips as she blushed and looked down at the floor. She never was very good at accepting compliments.  
  
If only she knew the effect her bashfulness had on the two boys next to her. She would have turned quite a bit redder.  
  
"I'm not interested in history, 'Mione..." Harry grinned. "I need to know how you do it."  
  
She thought for a moment. "Well, from what I can remember from textbooks, you need to get the subject as relaxed as possible..."  
  
"Why?" Ron had taken a seat on the back of the couch and was listening intently - as he SHOULD be listening in his classes, but he never found them interesting enough.  
  
"In a relaxed state, the subconscious is more likely to accept suggestions. The defenses are down."  
  
"So, what you're saying - is to get someone to COMPLETELY relax, whisper something in their ears, and they'll do it?" An evil grin spread across Ron's face. No doubt he was planning something. "That sounds easy!"  
  
"No, RON." Hermione rolled her eyes again. "You can't just whisper something to someone while they sleep and expect them to do it in the morning. They need to be in a trance - that's when the subconscious is more likely to follow a suggestion."  
  
Harry was trying his best not to giggle, as he remembered himself kneeling beside Ron's bed just a few nights ago.  
  
"Actually, it's quite hard." Hermione continued. "And it's going to be even harder for us. We're not trained, and our subject is Malfoy for Merlin's sake! He's never relaxed, not around us anyway." And with that, both Ron and Hermione looked to Harry.  
  
"Let me worry about getting Malfoy relaxed and in a trance," Harry smiled again. "What I need you two to do is think up some horrid ways to embarrass him."  
  
Ron and Hermione looked at each other, eyes narrow and smirking.  
  
"I think we can handle that."  
  
~*~  
  
Dinner passed by quickly - as it always does when you're having fun. Ron and Hermione had come up with some pretty devious suggestions, but neither of them were satisfied with their ideas thus far.  
  
"We could get him to bark like a dog..."  
  
"Nah, that's too much like him anyway."  
  
~Silence~  
  
"How about we make him think he's a girl?"  
  
"Again, not too far a stretch for him."  
  
~Silence~  
  
"Convince him he's in love with Snape?"  
  
"RON!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You're not helping us by pointing out the obvious!"  
  
"FINE! You think of something, Miss I know everything about Hypnosis and Revenge!"  
  
"I never said I knew everything about revenge!"  
  
Ron and Hermione had turned and were facing each other at the Gryffindor table, faces red - brows furrowed - and making quite a bit of noise. Had they not been yelling quite so loud, they would've heard a certain Slytherin slinking up behind them.  
  
"Having a lovers spat, are we weasel? Mudblood?" Draco's smirk had gotten wider since his evaded expulsion.  
  
"Superb timing, Malfoy - we were just talking about you." Hermione gave him a look.  
  
"Ooooh, nothing good I hope." And with a nerve neither Gryffindor thought he had, Draco plopped down between them - sending Ron and Hermione scooting away as fast as they could without burning their bums.  
  
Ron sneered. "What do you want, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco ignored Ron and focused on Harry, who, at this point, hadn't said a word.  
  
"Why so quiet, Potty? Snake got your tongue?"  
  
Harry smirked...as if to say 'Just enjoying the show.'  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow, his interest peaked.  
  
Ron interrupted. "Are you going to sit there all day?"  
  
"Hardly. I already feel contaminated by your presence." Casually, as though nothing was out of the ordinary about him sitting with them, Draco began poking at Ron's meal with his knife. "I came over to ask you a question."  
  
"If you're asking us to finally let you into our club, I'm telling you for the last time Malfoy - we only accept humans..." Ron about choked at Hermione's comeback.  
  
"I'm hurt, mudblood...really I am." Draco pressed his hand to his heart and sighed. "Actually, I was wondering," He turned suddenly, facing Ron. "What's it like?"  
  
"What's 'what' like?" Ron cocked his head to the side, his tone mocking. "Being poor?"  
  
Draco laughed. "No, silly boy. I've seen your house...I can gather." He lowered his voice. "What's it like? Fucking a mudblood?"  
  
Ron's face turned red. Not from embarrassment, but from fury. He could handle Malfoy insulting his status, or whatever, he'd gotten used to that. But Hermione...oh no. NO one insulted *his* Hermione. His fist was already bent back when Harry finally spoke.  
  
"You should know that already, Draco."  
  
Bemused, Draco turned...his gaze fixated on Potter. "I would NEVER soil myself with a...a half-breed."  
  
"Really?" Harry looked up, mockingly confused. "Cause I thought ol' Voldie would've had you up the ass a couple of times by now. You being your father's son, and all..."  
  
A collective gasp echoed throughout the hall, as the majority of Hogwarts had stopped their conversations by this point. Everyone expected Malfoy to jump over the table at Harry, causing Ron to jump in, giving way to a proper fistfight. However, that wasn't what happened. A calloused hand fell on Draco's shoulder and squeezed.  
  
"Dungeon...NOW."  
  
Draco's face went from rage, to surprise, to humiliation, then back to rage. Professor Snape was leading his prized pupil away by the shoulders, but not without a look from Draco. A look that only Harry knew. 'This isn't over.'  
  
Complete and utter silence reigned as Snape ushered a brooding Draco through the Great Hall and out the main doors. Only after they had closed did conversation break out again. "What the hell?" was the main consensus.  
  
Suddenly, as if rehearsed, both Ron and Hermione spoke.  
  
"I know what we should do to Malfoy."  
  
~*~  
  
Draco was furious. How COULD he? Of all the people to come to Potter's aid, he never would've suspected Snape. The betrayal he felt was only evident in his eyes. The rest of his body was too far gone, enraged with Potter, to even hint at disappointment.  
  
His fists were balled up so tight his knuckles were white - in direct contrast with his face. For the first time in a long time, Draco had a bit of color in his cheeks. He took long strides, shortening the distance between himself and the dungeon. 'Let's get this over with.'  
  
Professor Snape was more than happy to comply, as his pace was far from slow. He had been watching Draco like a hawk ever since their trip to Dumbledore's office; he had barely gotten to the Gryffindor table in time to stop his young protégé from ripping that blasted Potter's tongue right out of his mouth. Unlike what it may have seemed, Snape was in no mood to be doing those Gryffindors any favors.  
  
When they finally reached the door to the potions lab, Draco hesitated - causing Snape to roll his eyes.  
  
"Of course, the Malfoys are used to having things done for them..." It came out as a low growl, but loud enough for Draco to hear.  
  
In a quick gesture from the more-than-annoyed Professor, the door swung open...and Draco sulked in. Immediately, he took his usual seat, not saying a word.  
  
So they sat there in silence...Snape at his desk, Draco in his seat...for what felt like an eternity. Each one more disappointed in the other.  
  
Finally, Draco broke the silence.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Professor Snape had begun grading his third-year's research projects on "Newt Testicles and their many uses".  
  
"If you expect an answer, Mr. Malfoy, I would suggest you rephrase your bumblings into an actual question..."  
  
Draco glared.  
  
"Why, PROFESSOR, did you stop me at dinner?"  
  
"It was time for your detention."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Did I, or did I not, specifically say that you would be spending your detentions with me every night after dinner?" Although it was a question, technically - Snape always had a way of making it into a statement.  
  
"Yes, but..."  
  
"Were you eating?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then your dinner was finished. Hence, your detention began." He sighed.  
  
Draco still wasn't satisfied. "Sir, forgive me for saying this, but you picked the most un-opportune moment to start my detention."  
  
At this, Snape looked up and met Draco's gaze.  
  
"I disagree, Mr. Malfoy. If anything, I believe I picked THE opportune time to begin."  
  
All the pleasantries Draco was accustomed to when addressing his Professor flew out the window.  
  
"Did you even LISTEN to what he was saying?!?"  
  
Snape had gone back to grading papers. "Contrary to popular belief, I do have a vague conception of what goes on in this castle, yes."  
  
"You heard what he said about me...my father." The rage he felt was evident.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then...why?" The hurt in his voice almost caused Severus to wince. Almost.  
  
Snape got up from his desk and made his way over to where Draco was sitting. Placing his hands on the desk, he leaned in till he was only inches away from Draco's face.  
  
"Your stupidity astounds me, Draco. After last night, after EVERYTHING that happened...you have the gall to flaunt about and pick idiotic fights with the ONE boy you should be avoiding like the plague." Snape's voice was low. "Suspicions are high, Mr. Malfoy...I am not the only one watching you. Do not, and I repeat, DO NOT give Dumbledore another reason to expel you." If it was possible, his voice got even lower...  
  
"As I have said before - you've fallen once, and I WILL not be there to help you up again."  
  
Draco looked at him thoughtfully, putting the pieces together.  
  
"Have I made myself clear?"  
  
Draco nodded. "Yes, sir. Perfectly."  
  
Satisfied, Snape nodded in return. "Good. However..." His eyes creased. "I would not make a habit of questioning my motives, Mr. Malfoy...I assure you." A fire flashed in his eyes. "You don't want to know the answer."  
  
Draco nodded...a bit more hesitantly this time.  
  
In an instant, the dark and foreboding atmosphere was gone - and was replaced by Snape's sad attempt at humor. "As FUN as this is, Mr. Malfoy - the rest of your detention will not be quite so enjoyable."  
  
Draco had to choke back a grin... as the past few minutes were FAR from enjoyable.  
  
"What will I be doing, Professor?"  
  
"You will assist me. A certain...individual...has requested that I make him a potion. A highly complex potion, at that. I will need your assistance, as it will take a month to prepare."  
  
"Certainly Sir. What potion will we be making?"  
  
Severus paused a moment. "You will be informed when it is necessary."  
  
"Ahh." He nodded. "I see." A cunning smile made its way to Draco's face. "You can say his name, Professor. I know who it's for."  
  
Severus was stunned, and saddened. Of course Draco knew who it was for, but for him to be so non-chalant about it...had he already given himself over to the dark? His father's son indeed. But before he had a chance to respond, Severus's face contorted in pain as he grasped his arm. The brand he had received so many years ago felt as though it were on fire. He was being summoned. In a quick look, Draco nodded, packed up his things, and made for the door - turning around quickly before crossing through.  
  
"You will send my regards to my father?"  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"Thank you, Sir." And with that, Draco left.  
  
~*~  
  
Meanwhile...back at Gryffindor Central...  
  
~*~  
  
"This is going to be SO great..."  
  
Ron was bounding around the common room as Hermione wrote down their suggestions. Suddenly, as soon as Draco had left at dinner, ideas for revenge came naturally. Draco's attempt at humiliation only solidified his own demise. Funny how that happens. One horrific idea after another - they all came tumbling out. Harry was enjoying this as much as Ron, but for much different reasons. It made him happy to involve his friends once more. This whole thing had been so secretive - it felt good to have their help...even if they didn't know the whole story.  
  
Hermione was finally finished with the list. She looked up at Harry, who was leaning against the fireplace - his arms crossed over his chest - and beamed at him. No matter how many times she did that, it always seemed to take his breath away. He beamed back.  
  
"What've we got?"  
  
"Well," Hermione started down the list, giving her own opinion on each one. It took another half hour before they had finally agreed on three suggestions. (A/N: Not that I'm going to reveal them just yet...silly readers!) They all nodded in agreement. Tomorrow's potions class was going to be a hell of a lot more fun than usual.  
  
"Harry..." Hermione looked down. "You still haven't told us how you're going to pull this off."  
  
"Yeah. What's the plan?" Ron had stopped bouncing off the walls by this point and had finally joined the conversation.  
  
Harry looked at his pleading friends. Pangs of guilt found their way back to his heart, but he dismissed them. They couldn't know. Not yet, anyway.  
  
"I can't tell you."  
  
A collective "WHY?" was his response.  
  
"For your own safety, I can't. If anyone's going to go down for this, it should be me." Harry's look was stern. "I doubt that anyone could trace this back to us, let alone prove it, but I still don't want to take any chances. You know how Dumbledore is..." His voice dropped a bit. "...I don't think I'll get into TOO much trouble."  
  
Ron and Hermione thought about it for a moment. Hermione was the first one to speak.  
  
"Okay. I'll take your word for it..." She paused. "ONLY, and I do mean only, IF you promise to tell us eventually. Once the coast is clear."  
  
"Yeah." Ron chimed in.  
  
"That sounds fair." Harry smiled. "But I'M the one who gets to decide when the coast is clear."  
  
Hermione made a sound of disapproval, but Ron quickly covered it.  
  
"Personally, I don't really care how you do it, mate... just as long as that slimy git gets his come uppins!" At "uppins" Ron began bouncing around the Common Room again.  
  
Both Harry and Hermione cracked up.  
  
"This is going to be SO great..."  
  
~*~  
  
Meanwhile...in a creepy location not too far from the school...  
  
~*~  
  
After alerting Dumbledore of his unexpected summons, Severus went off to Voldemort's meeting-place. He never knew where it was going to be from gathering to gathering. The Dark Lord enjoyed his privacy - which meant keeping his minions in the dark most of the time. Severus was usually among the ignorant, but not this time. He was too deeply involved, much to his disgust.  
  
Severus approached the seated figure, his robes outlined by the emerald fires that burned behind him. In a swift, and rehearsed, motion - he kneeled before the shadowy form, making sure to keep his eyes lowered.  
  
"My Lord. You have called."  
  
A raspy voice answered - it's tone almost too strained to comprehend. The Dark Lord was much weaker than he had thought. Snape tried his best not to smirk.  
  
"Ssseverus. So good of you to come."  
  
"Your will is my duty, my Lord." The pleasantries of being a slave - oh the rapture.  
  
"Yesss...so it is. And how is My will coming along?" Voldemort made a gesture towards Lucius Malfoy, who had been standing back in the shadows. He quickly joined Severus. "I take it the potion has been started?"  
  
"Tomorrow, my Lord - Draco is ready to assist me."  
  
"Excellent." His gaze moved from the potions master to Lucius. "And has our young Draco been informed of his role?"  
  
Lucius, who usually was as smooth as a warthog's backside, had quite a time keeping his voice from stammering.  
  
"He...he has n-not, as of...yet, my Lord." His eyes darted towards Snape. "I was under the impression it was Severus' job to inform him."  
  
"It would do you good not to assume such things, Lucius." Voldemort's gaze had turned cruel. "After all, you are his father. Such joyous news should come from family...not professors."  
  
If the situation had not been so dire, Severus would've cracked a smile.  
  
"Of course, my Lord. My mistake."  
  
"Yes, Lucius. Your mistake." A cracked sneer formed on Voldemort's decaying lips. "Crucio."  
  
After an eternity of agony, Lucius was finally released and slumped to the ground, his body twitching. Every meeting was like this. At some point during the night, at least one person would displease Voldemort - and would have to pay. Severus was the usual target, but he had too big of a part to play for Voldemort to injure him TOO severely. What luck. Voldemort's attentions were soon directed back to Severus.  
  
"You will keep Me informed of your progress, Severus."  
  
"Yes, my Lord."  
  
Suddenly, and madly, Voldemort began clapping. A twisted laugh escaped his lips.  
  
"Do not cower in the shadows, My children! Be of good cheer! For soon your Master will live again, stronger and more powerful than ever..." His gaze returned to Lucius, who was regaining consciousness. "Isn't that right, Lucius?"  
  
A humble gaze was all he could muster.  
  
Chilling laughter was the last thing he heard before he passed out again. Severus dared a glance at the lump of a human Draco called 'father.' Even if he had a chance, and Lucius woke up, Severus doubted he'd mention his son's regards.  
  
~*~ 


	13. Chapter 13

Warning: Danger Will Robinson, Danger!  
  
A/N: I'm too poor to own anything as good as Harry Potter.  
  
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione have some VERY nasty things in store for poor, defenseless Draco. Revenge is a bitch, ain't it? Draco's no stranger to humiliation, though. You've met his father. And Snape - well, Snape is neck deep in a plot that's so confusing that he doesn't even fully know what's going on. At least Voldie's pleased with him - for whatever good that'll do.  
  
Thanks:  
  
Thom: *smiles and winks at ya* Thank you so much for reading, hon! It makes my heart sing that you've taken a bigger interest in HP. You're fab ...grrrrrr baby.  
  
Morri: No, of course you're not impatient. *cricket chirps somewhere* Ummmm...yeah. But I like that in a reviewer! Keeps me on my toes and stuff. Keep them vibes a comin'!  
  
The artist formerly known as Joy Took...AKA Stimpy: Thank you for your review! I'm so happy that it's somewhat entertaining enough to catch your interest. It really means a lot to me. I hope the rest is up to par!  
  
FRAN!: Yeah, I kind of did a "180" on ya there...sorry 'bout that! The plot kind of hit me one day, and I couldn't "NOT" do it. Glad you dug it, though! I was hoping Voldie's scene was creepy. It was creepy to me, but then, I get creeped out at most everything. Lol *Screams* What the hell was that?!?! *pants*  
  
FINALLY!!!!  
  
This chapter is dedicated to Ben Cooney, for being my 50th reviewer! (and my 49th, 48th, 51st, 52nd, etc.) Thank you so much, m'dear! The quantity, and quality, of your comments made me beam! This one's for you, hon!  
  
Are y'all prepared for an action packed chapter?? I sure hope so, 'cause that's what you've got.  
  
Onwards and Upwards!  
  
~*~  
  
Later that night...  
  
~*~  
  
Harry had snuck out of the Gryffindor Common room around 10 pm Sunday night. Under the protection of his invisibility cloak, and with the help of the Marauder's Map, he made it to Hagrid's hut by 10:15 - safely, and without a 'Peeves' incident. No one knew he was there, not even Ron & Hermione. They knew he was sneaking out to hypnotize Malfoy, but the details of his assignment were conveniently left out. It was better that way, though. The less they knew of the amulet, the better. With a quick look over his shoulder, Harry creaked open Hagrid's door and sneaked in.  
  
Hagrid had left earlier that week on an assignment from Dumbledore. No doubt a meeting with the Giants was in order...given the fact their allegiance with the Light was crucial to their success. A sad smile made its way to Harry's lips as he looked around the rough-and-tumble cottage. Hagrid was risking his life right now, and here was the-boy-who- lived...breaking and entering so he could effectively humiliate his archenemy. It all seemed so petty.  
  
Harry knew there were more important things to be worrying about than Malfoy, but he just couldn't make himself get involved. Too much of his youth had been wasted in worry. There would be time enough for dangerous missions and life-or-death situations at a later date. Right now, he deserved to have a little fun.  
  
'Stop being so selfish!' The small scrap that was left of his conscience was screaming at him. 'The world is ending, and you're worried about getting off! If your father could see you...'  
  
"Stop it." Harry had closed his eyes and was trying to convince himself that he was fine. That what he was doing was fine. He clenched his fists; Marauder's Map in one hand, invisibility cloak in the other. Both gifts from his father, ironically enough.  
  
"If he didn't want me to use them, he wouldn't have left them for me." That seemed to shut his conscience up.  
  
After waiting a moment or two for a response, and finding none, Harry put down his inheritance and hurried over to Hagrid's bed. Trying his best not to trip over anything, as it was black as pitch in there. Time was of the essence. He had to get into Malfoy's head before that blonde git fell asleep. He chuckled softly, remembering how worried Hermione was that the plan wouldn't work, as she saw no conceivable way for Harry to get close enough to Malfoy to talk to him, let alone put him in a trance.  
  
What she didn't know, and what Harry would never tell her, is that he had a direct path to Draco's subconscious. All he had to do now was hope he could be heard.  
  
After an annoyingly long time of feeling around in the dark, Harry found the bed. It came up past his midsection, and he had to jump a bit to even get on, but he finally made it. An expansive mass of fluffy, soft fur greeted his arrival. A sudden urge to make snow angels took hold of him, but he quickly dismissed it. He'd have plenty of time for fun later...right now, he had some business to attend to.  
  
He hoped he hadn't wasted too much time. He was fairly certain that this would work, but Draco had to be awake for all to go smoothly.  
  
Quickly, but with a bit of reverence, Harry pulled the amulet from his pocket and slid it around his neck...  
  
"Here's to hoping..."  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Darkness~  
  
~*~  
  
Draco made his way back to the Slytherin Common room after a rather...enlightening...detention with Professor Snape. All of his anger and resentment towards his professor had been abolished, and promptly re-directed back at himself. How could he have been so ignorant to think that the Head of Slytherin House would defend those... those imbecile Gryffindorks? No...Snape was too much a Slytherin to do anything that rash.  
  
His head shook in disbelief, ashamed at his own stupidity for doubting Professor Snape's loyalties.  
  
Snape had made himself quite clear in his usual 'cloak and dagger' fashion...Draco was being too obvious. So soon after possible expulsion, only a fool would openly threaten the 'victim', and not expect some sort of retaliation. Dumbledore was watching him, obviously, as were numerous other professors. He was under the microscope, it would seem. Thankfully, Professor Snape had been in a 'giving' mood today. Draco highly doubted his father would've been so kind.  
  
He would lay low for a while. Let things 'simmer down' as it were. Patience was a virtue Draco never had the pleasure of knowing...but he would soon learn. If anything, his absence would most likely unnerve his opponents...sending them into fits of paranoia.  
  
The Malfoy smirk found its way back home, and Draco continued on his way.  
  
Once within the walls of the Slytherin Common room, Draco was his old self again. And in a good mood, luckily, he could even tolerate Pansy Parkinson's incessant babblings, which greeted him upon his entrance.  
  
"Draco! I was sooo worried..." She purred and sauntered up to him. "The look on Snape's face...I was sure you were done for!"  
  
Draco looked at her threateningly. "You doubt my abilities, Pansy?"  
  
"No! No, of course not...Drac..." She was backing off him slightly. "It just looked for the worst."  
  
"Hmmph..." Draco smirked in satisfaction. "You obviously don't know Snape very well."  
  
"Then...you're not in trouble?"  
  
"Hardly. Professor Snape and I are working on a potion together; it was simply time to start the brewing process. Really, Pansy." His eyes glowed. "Sometimes I think you'd be better off in Huffle Puff."  
  
"Draco Malfoy!" Pansy looked indignant. "There's no need to be cruel!"  
  
"But I do it so well..." He growled. In one swift motion, he took her in his arms and kissed her; releasing the pent up anger and frustration he had been collecting all day. The way his jaw was clenched, you could almost see his tongue savagely exploring her mouth, their lips painfully crushed together. The muscles in Draco's neck stood taunt, stretched and strained, a beautiful compliment to his severe jaw line.  
  
And then, as suddenly as he had started, he stopped. And walked away. Leaving Pansy wide-eyed and breathless in the entryway.  
  
"What was that about?" Blaise raised an eyebrow as Draco passed, on his way to the dormitories.  
  
"You've heard of a punching bag...?"  
  
Blaise nodded.  
  
"Same results...different technique." Draco resumed his smirk and headed up the stairs.  
  
~*~  
  
After a couple of hours of studying, Draco could hardly keep his eyes open. He wasn't exceptionally tired, but "Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles" was hardly exceptional literature. Damn his Muggle Studies class. Not only was it a complete waste of brainpower, it was horrifically boring to boot. It was a wonder the wretched creatures didn't bore themselves out of existence by now.  
  
"Survival of the fittest, my arse." Draco grumbled under his breath.  
  
Cattle...the lot of 'em. No real purpose besides menial labor. At least they proved entertaining. His mind wandered back to a tale his father had told him as a child...one of his favorite bedtime stories. Not one you'd find in a children's book - but a first hand account of a particularly engaging Death Raid.  
  
It was the peak of Voldemort's rein. Draco was only an infant, but he claimed he could remember his father's exuberance clear as day. He had rushed in to Draco's room where his mother had been tending to him, and in a rare emotional outburst, he took her in his arms and held her. He then bent over Draco's crib and watched him. For what seemed like hours, he stood there and watched his son. Draco could still remember his smile.  
  
Earlier that day, the Death Eaters, lead by Voldemort himself, had attacked a muggle school. Lucuis never went into too much detail about the raid, but he told Draco about one instance that involved two little boys. (In his youth, Draco had named them "dumb" and "dumber". But now, since maturing, he would call them "Weasel" and "Potty")  
  
Voldemort had been watching his followers torture and kill the school faculty, when a foolish child (Potty) had stood between them and his friend (Weasel). A pathetic attempt at bravery. "Weasel" tried to push his friend out of the way, but "Potty" wouldn't budge. Instead, "Potty" yelled and insulted Voldemort with every curse word feasible in an eight-year-old's vocabulary. Without hesitation, the Dark Lord cursed "Weasel", and he immediately fell to the floor, writhing in pain.  
  
The moral of the story, Draco devised, was that "friendship" was a weakness. Had "Potty" not attracted attention to his friend, "Weasel" probably would've been overlooked. It wasn't the children the Death Eaters were after to begin with, but after they witnessed how fun they were to "play" with, more children soon fell to unforgivables.  
  
That was when Draco's daily "weakness" talks began. He was six.  
  
Sure enough, Draco took his father's words to heart. Never, in his sixteen years of existence, had he given into temptation. It had been difficult at first. The loneliness of an empty childhood, locked away in the Malfoy Mansion without companionship. It would've driven most wizards insane. However, Draco used that solitude to his benefit. He could exist on his own, without the need or desire for friends. Sure, he had Crabe and Goyle - but they hardly counted. They were his...compatriots. They existed for manipulation and labor, nothing more.  
  
Loyalty was the only emotion that had been encouraged in the Malfoy Manor. Loyalty to his family, loyalty to the Dark, loyalty to the pureblood.  
  
Loyalty...to Slytherin House. Draco clenched his eyes shut, remembering Professor Snape's disappointment. Never again would he doubt the Head of his House.  
  
Satisfied that he could no longer read another passage from that asinine book, Draco threw it to the floor and got ready for bed. As he slid beneath the covers, Draco subconsciously repeated the mantra his father had taught him so early in life.  
  
He would never be weak. Never.  
  
He turned over onto his side, one hand beneath his pillow. His eyes glanced over to the clock on his bedside table.  
  
10:15  
  
Turning in early was never one of Draco's favorite things to do, but he had potions tomorrow morning. He wanted to be there on time, especially now...considering the day's events. Keeping in Snape's good graces was at the top of Draco's "to-do" list. Besides, he didn't want to miss a moment of the Gryffindor's daily torturing. He had a feeling Snape would be particularly cruel tomorrow - to make up for his apparent "rescue" at dinner tonight. Draco's stomach tightened up at the thought. He'd get his vengeance soon enough. If Snape didn't prove to do a good enough job already. It wouldn't be too difficult. Besides...  
  
Potter was weak. It would be only too easy to exploit his emotions. The daffy bastard wore them on his sleeve for fuck's sake. His love for his friends would be his undoing one-day. It was only a matter of time.  
  
Draco closed his eyes as he drifted off. Laughing quietly, and bitterly, to himself.  
  
~*~  
  
Meanwhile...in Draco's head  
  
~*~  
  
Harry found himself in familiar territory. The same void - the same endless, soundproof eternity of black. A sigh of relief escaped his lips; he had made it in time. Without another thought, Harry propelled himself forward and began his search for the lights. It didn't take too long. Directly below him were the proverbial emotion indicators, melting and flashing in a variety of colors.  
  
To say that Malfoy's head was different than Ron's would be an understatement. As he soared downward, a musky aroma entered his nostrils. While the familiar scent of the Burrow greeted his last arrival, this new aroma was...foreign. It was pungent...reminiscent of a dungeon...with a hint of sandalwood and sweat mixed together.  
  
It was intoxicating.  
  
The thought of experiencing anything less than nausea when dealing with Malfoy was a bit unnerving. But Harry quickly made himself forget the pleasant aroma as he approached the lights. They had gone from a brilliant red, to orange...then yellow...quickly dissipating, changing to green...then finally settling on blue. After a good minute or two of blue, Harry concluded that Draco was about to fall asleep and flew into action.  
  
After clearing his throat, Harry called out into the darkness...  
  
"Listen to my words, Draco...listen and believe..." Harry waited a moment before continuing. He hated the fact this was coming out so melodramatically. "What I say, you will do. There will be no question, no doubt. What I say is truth..."  
  
The lights made no indication that Draco had heard him. Frustrated, but determined, Harry continued.  
  
"When Ron Weasley says the word **Sir**, you will, without hesitation, believe that you're..."  
  
(A/N: Like I'm gonna give it away yet! *tsk tsk* Silly readers!)  
  
After Harry had given his "suggestion", Draco's emotional indicators, or whatever they were, flashed a brilliant gold. Harry grinned. This was working!  
  
"When Hermione Granger says the word **Question**, you will, without hesitation..."  
  
Again, the lights flashed a brilliant gold, and then returned blue.  
  
"When Harry Potter says the phrase **You know you want me**, you will, without hesitation..."  
  
For the third and final time, there was a flash of gold, and then nothing. The blue lights began to fade into darker shades. Navy blue, midnight blue, then finally...a blackish purple color. Draco was dreaming.  
  
Harry could only hope that this would work, but given what he had witnessed, it would. Elated with his success, Harry did a flip - at least, as much of a flip one can do in a void - before slipping off the amulet.  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Swirling~  
  
~Darkness~  
  
~*~  
  
Harry awoke with a violent bounce. He was back in Hagrid's hut, and all had gone well. A devious smirk made its way to Harry's lips as an equally devious thought occurred to him.  
  
'I wonder...nah...I shouldn't. But still, it would be fun...'  
  
He cackled.  
  
Fifteen minutes and two more trips later, he had packed up his things, slinked on the cloak, and made his way back to Hogwarts. Harry hoped it wasn't too late. He needed to get some sleep, as it was going to be a big day tomorrow. And not just for Malfoy, it seemed...  
  
'This is going to be SO great.'  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
You didn't really think I'd leave it there, did you? *grin* I'm not THAT evil. READ ON!!!!  
  
~*~  
  
Both Draco and Harry awoke the next morning with a desire to get to Potions as quickly as possible. And while Draco was a bit more composed, Harry flew back his covers and ran to the showers.  
  
"Umph!" "Ow!"  
  
Not before running head long into an equally excited Ron Weasley first.  
  
"Sorry, mate!" "Didn't see you there..."  
  
"Did you...?"  
  
"...yeah!..."  
  
"Did it...?"  
  
"...yeah!..."  
  
"What are...?"  
  
"...later..."  
  
"First...?"  
  
"...breakfast..."  
  
"Then...?"  
  
Harry grinned.  
  
"Potions."  
  
Ron matched him.  
  
"This is going to be SO great!"  
  
~*~  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat a bit further away from the rest of the Gryffindors that morning, as there was much to discuss. Trying not to look too obvious, they huddled close to each other...their voices low.  
  
"Alright...here's the plan. Each of us has a word that will trigger the hypnosis. I've tried to make them as inconspicuous as possible. And please, DON'T ask me again how I did it." Harry looked at Hermione, who simply glared back. He sighed. "Mione..." His bushy haired friend drew closer. "Your word is **Question**"  
  
Hermione nodded as Ron snickered.  
  
"That's definitely inconspicuous. She asks him a hundred questions every class!"  
  
It took both Hermione AND Harry shooting him a look to get him to shut up.  
  
"Ron, your word is **Sir**"  
  
It was Hermione's turn to snicker.  
  
"What!?"  
  
"Oh nothing...other than the fact that you've never been able to speak to Snape in a voice louder than a whisper. I doubt Malfoy'll even hear you."  
  
Instead of getting angry, Ron grinned.  
  
"Oh, HE'LL hear me."  
  
"You best make sure he does, Ron." Harry's tone took a turn for the serious. "Cause if this doesn't work, I'll kill you."  
  
Ron grinned again.  
  
"Harry, if this doesn't work, I'll kill MYSELF!"  
  
It was a few minutes before they stopped laughing. It took Hermione's quick thinking to get them back on track.  
  
"Potions starts in a few minutes, boys...I suggest we be on our way."  
  
"Yeah," Ron chimed in. "I for one want to get a good seat!"  
  
"No, we sit where we usually do." Harry was getting up. "We don't want to attract suspicion."  
  
"Right." Hermione agreed as she too got up.  
  
"Fine, but you sit on my right, 'Mione." Ron was packing his bag.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"If I can't move closer, then at least I want a clear view! You're hair is impossible to see over!"  
  
Hermione smacked him a good one. In response to Ron's protests, she claimed it was necessary to appear as if everything was normal. For the sake of the plan...  
  
Both Harry and Ron knew better.  
  
~*~  
  
They were almost to Potions class when a snobbish drawl caught their attention.  
  
"Going to your death so eagerly, Potter?" Draco sneered. "I always DID think you had a death wish. Or is that your parents? I get you confused so easily."  
  
Hermione gingerly wrapped her fingers around both Harry and Ron's arm as she whispered.  
  
"Act normal."  
  
Both nodded.  
  
"I wasn't aware we'd be killing off Harry this lesson, Malfoy...but I wouldn't put it past that freak of a professor you seem to think so highly of."  
  
Ron was cool, calm, and collected. Entirely NOT his normal self. However, Draco was too furious with their cheek at his Professor's expense to notice.  
  
"Professor Snape is more a wizard than your ENTIRE pathetic excuse of a family, weasel...don't go insulting things you have NO comprehension of."  
  
"I had no idea he meant that much to you, Malfoy." Ron snickered. "It's so...sweet."  
  
Afraid Ron would give the game away, Harry grabbed his two friends and made for the door. Not before sending a comment over his shoulder.  
  
"Fuck off and die, Malfoy."  
  
They had just taken their seats when Harry hit Ron on the arm.  
  
"NICE, Ron. Really nice. You almost gave it away."  
  
Ron laughed.  
  
"Please, Harry...he's an idiot. He won't see it coming."  
  
Hermione shushed them as Professor Snape entered the classroom.  
  
He looked as brooding as ever - his robes billowing out behind him, hair barely washed, and eyes cold as ice. He did look slightly more worn than usual, though. Neither Gryffindor had a chance to wonder why as he immediately began class.  
  
"SILENCE." Though there wasn't much chatter to begin with, the room fell even more silent. Only his footsteps could be heard.  
  
"As you should know...though I seriously doubt many of you do..." Snape's gaze flew to the Gryffindor section of the room. They shifted uncomfortably. "Winter break is rapidly approaching. It is during that time that I will be expecting you to do the majority of your research..."  
  
A Slytherin hand popped up before Hermione could react. "Research for what, Professor?"  
  
A cruel smile etched its way onto Snape's face. "I'm so glad you asked, Mr. Malhi. Ten points to Slytherin for an intelligent question." At that, he sat down behind his desk, and to the shock of the ENTIRE class (Gryffindor and Slytherin alike), he put his feet up.  
  
"As it is your sixth year here, you all should be fully capable of creating your own potions. The key word being SHOULD. However, unlike the rest of your professors, I am fully aware of your incompetence. Unfortunately for you, that will not stop me from assigning you an independent study. In which, you will be researching and creating a potion that has yet to exist in the wizarding world."  
  
A collective groan echoed off the dungeon walls.  
  
Snape's smile grew wider.  
  
"Yes. It should prove to be MOST difficult. And, conveniently, it will count for 80% of your overall grade."  
  
The groan got a bit louder.  
  
"SILENCE. It has come to my attention that SOME of you..." Snape's eyes fixated on Draco. "...have already begun on their potions. Such enthusiasm will be rewarded accordingly."  
  
Draco's look of shock melted into a smug grin. His detention...the potion he was assisting in...it all made sense now. Apparently, he no longer had to worry about getting into Snape's good graces.  
  
Professor Snape's attentions were drawn away from his prized pupil by a hand waving incessantly in the air. Exasperated to have to deal with her so early on, he growled his reply.  
  
"YES, Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione lowered her hand, and tried to keep her best "innocent face" from faltering. Both Ron and Harry exchanged a look.  
  
"Yes, Professor. I have a **Question**..."  
  
~*~  
  
Okay. So maybe I AM that evil. *wicked grin* Hey, you like it? Review! You don't like it? Review anyway! 


	14. Chapter 14

Warning: Gratuitous absurdity approaching - may result in uncontainable laughter. Proceed with caution.  
  
A/N: No money has been made from writing this horrid fic.  
  
Summary: After an incredibly evil cliffhanger, we now join Hermione, Ron, Harry, Draco & Snape in the dungeons where chaos is about to break lose. Aren't you glad you kept reading this story? *fishes for compliments*  
  
Thanks:  
  
Thom: *sits back and watches you dance* Hehehehehehe...I'm glad you're happy, hon. Sorry 'bout the cliffhanger, though. I had to do it. And thank you for continuing to read! (even though you cheated)  
  
Morri: Yes, it was unfair. And yes, it was cruel. But you reviewed, didn't you? Bwahahahahahaha! My evil plan worked!!! *shuffles nervously* I hope you don't hate me now. Thanks for the vibes... *grin*  
  
Benny: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! And thank you for understanding why I ended it where I did. *grins and hugs ya* I was hoping someone wouldn't be TOO pissed. Oh, and thank you for your kind words!!!  
  
Red: Hey, I never said I was nice. *glares and tries to look menacing* Did it work? Are you convinced that I'm a cruel and evil person? *crickets chirping in background* Damn. Oh well. Thank you for reading! *grin*  
  
Tarathol: Hehehehehehehehehehe...yes, I AM so bad!! Looks like Hermione isn't the ONLY sneaky lil' b*tch around here...*grins* You won't be disappointed though, well...at least I hope you won't be!  
  
Franthe-greatestfan-enix: I'm so glad you liked the chapter, m'dear! I feel honored to have produced another "fave." Coincidentally, your last update had me soaring! *grins and claps* Although, if you don't mind, could you not choke me so hard next time? *puts hands up to throat* It still kinda stings...  
  
Whew! Again, a big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, and those who just read. I hoped I hadn't burned too many bridges with that last ending...thanks for sticking with me!  
  
*grins madly*  
  
Without Further Ado-  
  
~*~  
  
~Quick backtrack~  
  
~*~  
  
"YES, Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione lowered her hand, and tried to keep her best "innocent face" from faltering. Both Ron and Harry exchanged a look.  
  
"Yes, Professor. I have a **Question**..."  
  
Draco was still relishing in the fact that he wouldn't have to bother with that foolish Independent Study when Hermione spoke. Normally, he wouldn't have turned a hair of attention towards her, much less listen to another one of her asinine questions - and in all honesty, he wasn't paying attention. Well, at least, he didn't THINK he was.  
  
However, deep in his mind, a light clicked on...and before he knew what was happening, he had raised his voice and began to speak...  
  
"I wet my bed till I was twelve."  
  
~Silence~  
  
A chirping cricket could be heard in the back of the room, playing a sweet song of vengeance in the three Gryffindor's ears. It took all the will power they could muster to keep a straight face.  
  
A small shudder swept down Draco's spine as he slipped out of his induced state, completely oblivious to what had just happened. Hesitantly, Draco looked around the room at the stunned faces of his Housemates. Crabe and Goyle were slack jawed, as were the rest of the girls in Slytherin House. A soft chuckling could be heard from the Gryffindor section of the class.  
  
"As...interesting...as your announcement was, Mr. Malfoy..." Snape looked at him strangely. "...I would highly suggest you keep your personal life to yourself from now on."  
  
Still unaware of what was happening, Draco raised his eyebrows and shrugged.  
  
"Miss Granger, you were saying...?" Still fazed by Draco's outburst, Snape completely forgot to insult her intelligence.  
  
Hermione replied coolly.  
  
"Thank you Sir. About my **Question**..."  
  
"I've never been able to bring a girl to orgasm."  
  
Again, there was silence. But it was short lived.  
  
A good two seconds after Draco had declared his inadequacies in bed, small spouts of laughter erupted all over the classroom. Again, mostly from the Gryffindor section, but the occasional scoff and snicker was heard from the Slytherins. A particularly loud, and knowing snort escaped Pansy Parkinson's lips as she nodded to the two girls next to her.  
  
Draco was as confused as ever.  
  
"What?!"  
  
Little did he know that he was, in fact, announcing his deepest and darkest secrets to the entire class - thus - the entirety of Hogwarts.  
  
"MISTER Malfoy." The shock had worn off. "If you don't cease this behavior at once, I will be forced to deduct House points! Do I make myself clear?" Snape stared at the clueless Slytherin, who was beginning to turn a light shade of pink.  
  
"If you're so appalled by your...condition, that you feel the need to announce it in the middle of my lesson, I suggest you see me after class." He lowered his voice. "There are potions that can..." A small snort from the back of the room snapped his attention, and his gaze, onto the Gryffindors. THREE Gryffindors, in particular.  
  
Harry, Ron & Hermione were stifling back laughter.  
  
"Something funny, Miss Granger?" Only after he had sincerely offered to help Draco did Severus realize how badly he had worsened the situation. The embarrassment of it all did little to help Snape's already sour attitude.  
  
"No, Sir."  
  
"Perhaps you think it unwise of me to offer help to Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"No Sir. Not at all." The corners of her mouth flickered up. "I didn't mean to **Question** your motiv..."  
  
"I find midgets and little people strangely erotic."  
  
  
  
  
  
Shocked is hardly an appropriate enough word to describe the classroom atmosphere. No one could utter a sound. But Draco wasn't finished...hell, he didn't even know he had begun.  
  
  
  
  
  
"My mother once caught me wanking off to a picture of Professor Flitwick..."  
  
  
  
  
  
That did it.  
  
No longer able to control themselves, the entire class burst out in howling laughter. Hands slammed down upon desks - chairs tipped back as hoots and hollers were heard coming from every direction. Whatever House rivalries that existed between them were quickly forgotten. There was no more "Gryffindor" and "Slytherin" - there was only laughter.  
  
And Draco.  
  
WHO, by this point, was so completely befuddled by everyone laughing at him, that he had no choice but join them. Quietly, and tentatively, Draco started laughing - his eyes wide and uncertain. Cautiously, he looked to Crabe and Goyle for help, but they were too busy wiping the tears from their eyes to notice. Draco's blood began to boil, as the amusement of the situation was quickly wearing off.  
  
"What's so bloody funny!?!"  
  
A voice called out from the back. "Didn't realize you had such a SHORT temper, Malfoy!"  
  
"As short as the REST of him." Pansy notably added, holding up her hands in measurement.  
  
More laughter ensued. Professor Snape had given up on trying to discipline Malfoy, and concentrated on regaining control of his classroom.  
  
"ENOUGH! The next person who dares to breathe a sound will find themselves hexed beyond recognition."  
  
The Potions class quickly shut their traps, trying desperately to get their cheeks to go back to their original color. As fun as it was laughing at Draco's expense, he wasn't worth dying for. A muted silence quickly filled the classroom...save one.  
  
Ron was still snickering.  
  
"Mr. Wealsey..." An icy glare swept over Snape's face as he moved away from his podium. "Do you have a death wish?"  
  
Hermione looked to Ron, unconsciously alerting him that it was 'his turn'. Not that she had to...he had already opened his mouth to speak.  
  
"No, **Sir**"  
  
As predicted, Ron squeaked out the response...his voice barely audible. Hermione kicked his shin.  
  
"NO, **SIR**"  
  
~*~  
  
Draco was fuming. What the hell was going on?!? One minute he's Snape's favorite, the Pride of Slytherin; the next - he's being reamed from all sides! The entire class was having a laugh at his expense, and he hadn't a clue as to why. Instinctively, he felt his back for a sign or a note. Having found none, he stared, perplexed, at the table in front of him.  
  
Somehow, someway, Potter was involved. He was sure of it.  
  
A scowl quickly formed, hardening Draco's delicate features. He offhandedly heard Snape attacking Weasel, and for a brief moment, a kind of peace settled in. Maybe things were getting back to normal. Maybe he'd finally get out of the spotlight - let someone else be the 'butt' of the jokes. Draco heard the redheaded beggar-child squeak out something, and his heart lifted. Hoping it was safe to look up, he glanced over at Snape...and his heart skipped a beat.  
  
How had he not noticed him before? The way his black hair framed that noble, eccentric face...those eyes, like deep pools of night...his lips...oh gods, his lips...  
  
Draco's pulse had risen significantly in the matter of seconds it took to fully take in all that was Severus Snape. Lust, need, and longing hit him all in one fail swoop. His head was spinning. How long had he known this man and never truly saw him for all the brilliance he was? He was a master...a luminous being...the very reason Draco was put on this earth.  
  
Severus Snape was a god.  
  
A dreamy smile made its way to Draco's lips as he held his face in his hands...capturing every movement his love made. Draco's enlightened state of bliss was short lived, as Snape turned his back to him.  
  
Draco gasped...his eyes widened in horror...  
  
There stood *his* Snape, brooding and furious with Weasel, completely unaware of the hundreds of Flesh Eating Slugs that slurched and clung to his body! Why wasn't he doing anything? Why wasn't ANYBODY doing anything?!?  
  
The answer seemed so obvious. Of course! HE was the only person who could see them! These were a special breed of Flesh Eating Slugs that only the courageous, intelligent, and cunning Draco Malfoy could see. (Harry was very specific in the hypnosis.) So, naturally, HE was the only person that could help him! It all made sense now.  
  
He had to act, and he had to act quickly.  
  
Without a second thought, Draco gracefully leaped over his desk, and hurried over to help the poor, unsuspecting Professor...the love of his life.  
  
"Severus! My love! Don't...move...a...muscle."  
  
~*~  
  
Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors that were 'in' on Draco's humiliation, which were only Harry & Hermione, edgily waited for their second round of torture to begin. Snape had mentally noted that they all were a bit more 'on edge' than usual, but he assumed it was due to his successful attempt at intimidation. But this was not the case.  
  
Hermione's hypnosis had gone off without a hitch, but it was also a fairly simple 'suggestion' to place in Draco's subconscious. Ron's was more complicated. Not only did Draco have to believe that he was head over heels in love with Snape, but he ALSO had to believe that Snape's life was in danger...and that HE was the only person who could do anything. Needless to say, it could prove to be problematic. There were no signs of change in Draco's face, Ron duly noted...and his heart sank.  
  
It wasn't fair that only Hermione's suggestion would work! He had a beef with Draco too! Why was it everything he did went to hell in a hand basket? It wasn't fair. Ron was about to start pouting when Draco flew out of his seat and yelled.  
  
"Severus! My love! Don't...move...a...muscle."  
  
Draco slowly crept up, his arms out and raised...as if about to swat something, or someone.  
  
Professor Snape turned his head to locate the soon-to-be decapitated student who DARED speak his first name...only to find a most peculiar acting Draco Malfoy. Then again, he probably should've known. The boy had been behaving PROFOUNDLY out of character the entire day. He would have to get him checked for illegal stimulants later...  
  
"Mister Malfoy...under NO circumstances do you ever, EVER address me by my first name...do you understand?" Snape appeared to be furious, but only those who truly knew him could see he was beginning to get concerned.  
  
Draco, ignoring his lover's snide comments only because more pressing matters were at hand, replied.  
  
"Yes, Severu...er, Sir. Yes, I understand...but, your back...you must..."  
  
Draco's eyes widened in fear as one of the Slugs was quickly making its way up Severus' back...only centimeters away from his neck. With no thought to his own safety, Draco leapt.  
  
"...**PROFESSOR!!**..."  
  
Suddenly, and without thinking, Severus Snape giggled. Not a chuckle, not a sarcastic laugh, not even a snide snicker...a giggle. The sort of sound that school girls make when a really hunky guy walks by. Of course, he was only half-aware that he had made the sound...but the rest of the class knew it. Though none could fathom a reason as to why...  
  
...none, save Harry Potter.  
  
A sly smile crept into the green-eyed boy's lips as he watched his plan unfold. Unbeknown to his compatriots, Harry had made a couple of extra stops during his 'outing' last night - as it turned out, Professor Snape had been one of them.  
  
On cue, both Ron & Hermione leaned forward and turned to Harry...their eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and delight.  
  
"Harry...?"  
  
"Did he just...?"  
  
Harry put a finger to his lips and nodded forward to the chaos that was about to ensue.  
  
"Shhhhh...watch."  
  
~*~  
  
As often as everyone had seen Draco fly, either in Quidditch or at practice, it shouldn't have been such a shock to see him do it again. However, no one had ever seen the boy fly through the air...in the middle of Potions...and land, head first, on the back of Professor Snape. And that was exactly what he was doing.  
  
There was Draco Malfoy, clamped onto the back of Severus Snape, swatting and punching at his invisible nemesis.  
  
"Hold on, **Professor!**" Draco smacked the back of Snape's head. "I won't let them get you!"  
  
"WHAT IN THE..." **Giggle** "HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?!"  
  
Severus desperately tried to grasp the young boy that clung ferociously to his back; his arms flailing and swinging in every direction. Had he been a few years younger, and quite a bit more nimble, he may have succeeded. Alas, he had forgotten to stretch this morning...month...year. So, instead, Professor Snape continued his futile effort of ridding himself from his newly found 'attachment.'  
  
A new wave of laughter broke out among the students. Tears flowed freely and people fell out of their chairs as Draco continued to smack the ever-living shit out of their giggling Professor.  
  
"I'm sorry **Professor!**"  
  
*SMACK*  
  
"Stop this..." *Giggle* "...at ONCE!!"  
  
*SMACK*  
  
"GRANGER!" *SLAP* "SOMEBODY...stop him!"  
  
*SMACK*  
  
"I am TRYING to SAVE YOU!"  
  
*SMACK*  
  
"No..."  
  
*SMACK*  
  
"You're TRYING to KILL ME!!"  
  
*SMACK*  
  
"...**PROFESSOR!!!**..."  
  
*Giggle* *SMACK*  
  
"There's one!"  
  
*SMACK*  
  
"STOP!"  
  
"But **Professor!**..."  
  
*SMACKITY SMACK*  
  
"I'm..." *Giggle* "...SERIOUS!"  
  
Desperate, in pain, and without any other options available, Severus heaved his student into the wall...knocking him out cold. A gasp echoed throughout the classroom...directly followed by silence. The urge to laugh left with Draco's consciousness.  
  
Pleadingly, Severus looked to his students.  
  
"I...I had to..."  
  
Completely out of character, obviously due to the extraneous circumstances, Snape's eyes met Hermione's...almost as if he was looking for an affirmation for his actions. Startled by her Professor's gaze, Hermione quickly answered...  
  
"Of course, Sir. You had to. There's no **Question**..."  
  
Hermione winced as Draco eased out of unconsciousness just long enough to respond...  
  
"I...I'm afraid of my father..."  
  
...before quickly slipping back in.  
  
Severus looked down at the crumpled mess he had made of the boy, gingerly picked him up, and looked at the class.  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
And with that, he carried the unconscious Slytherin out of the room...leaving a concerned class behind him.  
  
~*~  
  
No one dared to speak as the class quietly picked up their things and made for the hallway. Thankfully, the foreboding atmosphere dissipated as the three Gryffindors made their way out of the dungeon. It was quite a few minutes before anyone spoke. Not surprisingly, it was Ron.  
  
"That went well."  
  
Hermione spun around on him. "NO Ron, it didn't."  
  
"We didn't plan for Snape to knock him unconscious!" He retorted defensively. "It was an accident."  
  
Harry had stopped walking. "I mean...we didn't know...we didn't mean for it to go that far."  
  
"Well..." Ron turned red. "I HAD hoped Snape would take points away..."  
  
"I don't think any of us wanted Malfoy to get hurt...just embarrassed." Hermione kept her eyes to the floor. "I know I did."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Me too."  
  
The three friends looked to each other for forgiveness, knowing full well the real person they should be asking was lying unconscious in the Infirmary. However, no matter how horrible they felt, they also knew that none of them ever would.  
  
"What are we doing?" Harry's voice rose a bit. "Malfoy deserved most of what he got. Ron's right. It was an accident. Besides, he WOULDN'T feel bad if the roles had been reversed..." His eyes met Hermione's. "You know that."  
  
"True..."  
  
"...Yeah..." Ron's tone had lifted. "I'm kind of surprised the slimy git hadn't thought of it first."  
  
They all laughed at that. The dark cloud that had settled on the trio was lifting, and the forgiveness they had been seeking suddenly felt unimportant.  
  
Harry started walking again. "What class do we have next?"  
  
Hermione thought for a second. "Charms..."  
  
~Pause~  
  
"...with Professor Flitwick."  
  
~Dramatic Pause~  
  
Ron and Harry looked at each other. Then to Hermione, who was covering her mouth...concealing a grin. A few throaty snorts escaped as they walked down the hall.  
  
They only made it a couple of feet before bursting out in fits of laughter.  
  
  
  
Perhaps it hadn't been that bad, after all.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
WHEW! I had a really good time writing this chapter. I hope you had as much fun reading it! It's not every day that I laugh at my own work...for the right reasons. Let me know what you think! Review!! And stay tuned for the next chapter! Harry still hasn't made use of his own **suggestion**...  
  
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA 


	15. Chapter 15

Warning: Language, absurdity, and lack of plot.  
  
A/N: If I owned Harry Potter in all his glory, would I have to sell myself on the street corners of KC? I think not.  
  
Summary: Ummmm...yeah. Chaos ensues.  
  
Thanks: Will be given at the end of the story...(a neat trick I've seen others use)  
  
Whew! Jesus please us - THAT TOOK FOREVER! I'll be surprised if you all remember this story- I'm SOOOO sorry it took me so DAMN long to update!! With Crimbos and New Years and working and EVERYTHING...frankly, I'm amazed I'm still alive. This chapter is a bit longer than the rest. I hope that helps to make up for its' absence. Please don't hate me too much.  
  
Right.  
  
To infinity, and BEYOND!  
  
~*~  
  
Impatient footsteps echoed off the walls and ceiling of the Infirmary - the sharp clacking intensified by the sterilized air. Pacing about, it would seem, had become a daily, and nightly, routine for Severus. His quick steps did little to help the already tense atmosphere, as Madam Pomfrey had given him a once-over more than once.  
  
"Are you quite finished?" Her tone was one not to be trifled with.  
  
Not that he cared.  
  
"That all depends...are you?"  
  
Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and resumed the through inspection of the unconscious boy that lay before her.  
  
It was a familiar scene. He had been in the hospital wing more times than he could count in his lifetime. It felt like only yesterday he had been there himself as a student...a second degree burn here, a broken jaw there...he had his fair share of 'accidents' in his youth. Whether it was a potion gone horribly wrong, or another run-in with those...those Gryffindors...Severus Snape was in and out of the Hospital Wing at least once a week. Pain made you stronger, his father had always told him.  
  
He wasn't the most respected, and feared, potions master in all of England for nothing.  
  
Nor was it fear that caused Severus to pace about the Infirmary, although it did appear to be that way. He had given that boy quite a wallop, heaving him against a stone wall with all the strength of a grown man. But he knew Draco was fine. A bit bruised up, but fine. A previous and 'unknown' inspection had put the majority of his fears to rest...  
  
No, it wasn't fear that kept Snape in constant motion - it was rage.  
  
~*~  
  
...Flashback...  
  
~*~  
  
A figure cloaked in black hurried down the dungeon corridor, unconscious student in arm, muttering furiously and silently to himself.  
  
After everything that he had done...had sacrificed...he would be damned if it all fell apart like this. If he lost the boy to something as stupid as 'self-defense'. No. That would not...COULD not happen. Not now.  
  
He had just passed a seemingly innocent wall when he slowed...and stopped. He looked to the stones briefly, then to Draco, then back at the wall. Without another thought, Severus muttered a few incantations, and the wall disappeared - exposing a doorway to a hidden room. Glancing over his shoulder, Severus quickly walked in, and the wall reappeared.  
  
Once within the safety of his storeroom, Snape allowed himself a moment to focus. Draco needed to be under Madam Pomfrey's care, yes, but it was necessary to look him over first. It was imperative. Severus had his suspicions, and if they were correct, he would need to confirm them BEFORE Madam Pomfrey had a go at it. Too much was at risk...  
  
Carefully, Severus laid the unconscious Slytherin down on the center table. He checked his pulse - it was steady. Wand out and ready, Snape muttered the spell.  
  
"Expromo Cantamen"  
  
A green flash lit the room...covering Draco in its light...and then disappeared.  
  
Severus growled. Apparently, no magic was used to force Draco into performing those hideous acts. He thought a moment before starting another spell.  
  
"Expromo Alienigena"  
  
A blue light flashed into existence, hovered for a moment, and then flew to Draco's feet - covering him in its neon blue essence. Slowly, it began to scan his body, moving upwards from his feet. As it progressed, its blue light pierced through Draco - exposing his muscles, bones, blood...everything. Severus watched...and waited. His attention was finally caught when the blue light stopped, and flashed, directly over Draco's head.  
  
'Surprise, surprise...' Severus' sense of humor could've rivaled Ron Wealsey's for popping up in THE most inappropriate times...had he been more apt to saying it rather than thinking it.  
  
The blue light had exposed, deep within Draco's mind, three golden orbs. Pleased that his spell had done its job at exposing the foreign entities, Severus waved his hand, and the light disappeared.  
  
"Commemoro"  
  
Instantly, the three orbs levitated out of Draco's head and hovered - directly across from Severus. With another wave of his hand, the orbs unfolded into words. He couldn't help but chuckle.  
  
"...of course..." Apparently, Potter and his friends thought that non-magical tactics would save their sorry behinds from punishment. He would be only too happy to prove them wrong. "Making good use of your knew bauble, I see..."  
  
Amused, Severus read the **suggestions** out loud.  
  
"When Hermione Granger says the word **Question**, you will, without hesitation, announce your deepest and darkest secrets. You will have no memory of this afterwards."  
  
His head shook in disgust.  
  
"When Ron Weasley says the word **Sir**, you will, without hesitation, believe that you're desperately in love with him...No one else exists in your world...Only after you realize this, will you see that his life is in danger, and YOU, Draco Malfoy, are the only person who can save him...A hoard of Flesh Eating Slugs will attack Professor Snape, and the only way to kill them is to hit them as hard as you can..."  
  
His eyes widened as he read Ron's suggestion...before instinctively narrowing again. Oh, they would pay for this outrage.  
  
"When Harry Potter says the phrase **You know you want me**, you will, without hesitation, answer truthfully..."  
  
Snape cocked his head in thought and disbelief. Could a certain young Gryffindor be curious about his arch nemesis? Could there be more at play than a simple boyhood grudge? A curious smirk made its way to Severus' lips. This was working out much differently than he had planned.  
  
With a wave of his hand, the three golden orbs disappeared out of existence...along with their influence.  
  
~*~  
  
...End Flashback...  
  
~*~  
  
To say that Severus was angry would be a grievous understatement. Kind of like saying the Titanic had a bit of a hole in its side.  
  
Yes, he was angry. Well, more like infuriated - but not so much with Harry, Ron or Hermione - he was, in fact, more angry with himself than the three combined. And considering their history together, that IS saying something.  
  
The little prank they pulled in his potions class was most certainly detention worthy, if not expulsion...but the actual 'act' of punishment would be trickier. How could he prove it? And even if he could, SHOULD he? After all, in a round about way, it was his fault the prank occurred in the first place.  
  
Questions would rise...  
  
How did they manage to hypnotize Draco? What did they use? How did they get it? Professor Snape, do you know anything about this?  
  
Too many questions...  
  
"Professor?"  
  
Severus had stopped pacing...his fists were balled up...knuckles white...teeth clenched...  
  
"Severus?"  
  
Up went the mask.  
  
"Poppy?"  
  
A soft smile reached Madam Pompfrey's lips.  
  
"Mister Malfoy, he seems to be in fine shape. Mind you, he'll have quite a bump on his head for a few days, but it's nothing rest and a good amount of ice won't fix." She motioned to Draco, who was still unconscious. "You may see him now."  
  
"Thank you." He quickly made his was over to the bed.  
  
"Although..." She called over her shoulder. "I would advise you not to handle your students quite so roughly in the future."  
  
He smirked.  
  
"You would do well to tell THEM the same thing."  
  
~*~  
  
It was at least two hours before Draco finally awoke. The world was a big white blur. Groggily, Draco covered his eyes.  
  
"Arrrrgh...too bright..."  
  
Then, the pain hit.  
  
"OWWwww."  
  
He gingerly put his hand to the back of his head, lightly tapping a feel for the massive bump that had formed.  
  
"Careful. You'll do yourself another injury."  
  
Draco squeaked his eyes open - a dark, blurry, brooding mass sat before him.  
  
"Snape?"  
  
"Ahhh...I'll thank you for not calling me Severus."  
  
The world was still spinning a bit. Perhaps he heard wrong. "I called you Severus?"  
  
"Actually, you called me Severus MY LOVE, right before you jumped onto my back...but I will spare you the sordid details."  
  
Draco's eyes were fully open by this point.  
  
"I called you...I jumped...what?"  
  
Snape put his hands up in defense. "You were not...yourself today in class."  
  
After an agonizing eternity, Severus explained the morning's...events...to the both of their embarrassment. Draco had turned red, and then green, finally settling on white before Snape was done. His worst fears confirmed.  
  
"I...this can't be happening." His eyes were wide - focusing on anything and everything BUT Snape.  
  
"I regret to inform you that yes, it is." Snape hardly looked amused. "And it will be dealt with accordingly."  
  
At that, Draco managed to look him in the eye.  
  
"Potter..."  
  
A small flicker of...something...was visible behind Severus' gaze, though Draco couldn't tell what it was exactly.  
  
"We...don't know that it was indeed Mr. Potter or not..." Professor Snape was not a man known to stammer - but this was the closest he'd ever come to it.  
  
"WHAT?" Draco's look was incredulous. "Of COURSE it was Potter! Who else would it be?"  
  
A considerable amount of bile had started to collect in the back of his throat, yet Severus remained composed. "Madam Pomfrey scanned you for traces of magic...there were none..."  
  
"So he used another way! Muggle methods! I don't know...Hypnosis! Something!"  
  
"I HIGHLY doubt Mr. Potter is capable of hypnosis," Severus sneered. "That would require brain power."  
  
"So that Mudblood Granger did it!" Draco was fuming, his nostrils flared. "ONE of them did THIS."  
  
"I need not remind you of your current situation, Mr. Malfoy..." Severus raised an eyebrow - an unspoken warning. "...to bring such attention to yourself AND Mr. Potter would be unwise."  
  
Snape's word of caution sank deep into Draco's stomach. After wincing a moment, he nodded reluctantly. Professor Snape was right. He was always right. But how long would this be held over his head? He hadn't asked to be rescued, not that he wasn't grateful...but still. As much as he admired his professor, Draco couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment towards him.  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
Severus nodded, and the subject was carefully dropped.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey has informed me that you are to miss the rest of your classes today, as you are in dire need of rest." Even though he secretly agreed with her, Severus made a point of relaying her message after thoroughly dousing it in sarcasm. It did not go unnoticed, as Draco snorted in reply.  
  
"Yes, well...I don't see how rest will help the sizeable protuberance on the back of my head, as it hurts like hell to lay down." His smirk doing little to hide the truth in his statement.  
  
"Yes. About that..." Severus shifted in his seat. "Draco...I"  
  
"...had no choice. I know." The blonde Slytherin lowered his gaze. "It seems I left you little alternative."  
  
"Regardless, it does not excuse what I did..."  
  
"Don't." Grey eyes met black, and Severus shut his mouth. "Don't."  
  
In that moment, Severus understood. He understood why the Dark Lord wanted the boy. Despite his childish actions, his very presence commanded respect. Those silver eyes told a tale of pain and power, pain that was inevitable in the quest for such power. And to have learned such lessons so early...Severus closed his eyes and thought of the agony that awaited the unsuspecting boy. No amount of childhood suffering could prepared him for what was to come...IF...if it were to come to pass. It was a big if. Severus opened his eyes again, and carefully looked upon the potential embodiment of evil that lay before him.  
  
A tangible moment of awkwardness rang clear throughout the Infirmary. Apparently, he had been staring a second or two too long...as Draco was now staring at him curiously.  
  
Severus sighed.  
  
"If it makes you feel any better..." A small flickering of a smirk traced the edges of his lips. "...I imagined you were Potter when I slammed you against the wall."  
  
For the first time that week, Draco genuinely laughed. The grey melted into silver and danced, reflecting the sunlight that poured into the Infirmary...catching Severus off guard for a moment. A twinge of hope fluttered in his chest as he recognized the reflection - innocence. Perhaps there was a chance after all.  
  
And for the first time...EVER...Severus genuinely smiled.  
  
"I will leave you to your recovery, then."  
  
Severus had just gotten up to leave when Draco called him back.  
  
"**Professor?**"  
  
"**GIGGLE** Yes?"  
  
Draco stared at him with a look of disbelief and horror mixed with amusement. His mouth had gone dry.  
  
"Yes, Mister Malfoy?"  
  
Draco shook his head, regaining his composure. Surely he had not heard him correctly.  
  
"Er, yes. I was wondering if I am still to join you after dinner tonight?"  
  
"Hmmmm." Severus grazed the underside of his chin. "I don't see why not. Yes. That is..." His tone grew sarcastic again. "...if you feel up to it."  
  
Draco grinned. "Oh, I don't know. I could faint at any time."  
  
"Seven o'clock. Don't be late."  
  
"I won't be, **Professor**"  
  
"I should **GIGGLE** think not." And with that, Severus made his way out.  
  
Draco sat for what seemed like an eternity, pondering the horror that was Severus Snape giggling like a schoolgirl. He wondered briefly if he should've mentioned it.  
  
~*~  
  
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully for the three Gryffindors. Although, Charms with Professor Flitwick had turned out to be an enjoyable class - almost as enjoyable as Potions had been, but without a notably insane Draco Malfoy prancing about. Nonetheless, Charms had proven to be entertaining.  
  
Poor Professor Flitwick.  
  
It had been quite a chore getting the Gryffindor section of the class to quiet down before the lesson had even started - but it would prove to be a futile effort as the time wore on.  
  
"Now class, today we will be...Mr. Longbottom, would you kindly stop giggling. Thank you. As I was saying...Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finnigan, do I need to remind you of how rude it is to snicker when others are talking? No. I thought not. Where was I? Oh yes! Today's lesson involves...Miss Brown! Miss Patel! Girls! Girls! I don't want to tell you again. Please stop this at once. What has gotten into you all?"  
  
Hermione shot everyone a look. They did their best to keep quiet.  
  
"Thank you Miss Granger. Now then...today we will be practicing the spell 'decresco perquam'." Professor Flitwick looked around at the class. "Can anyone tell me what it means?"  
  
Only one hand went up. And it belonged to a Miss Hermione Granger, who was very red in the face.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger!"  
  
"I, ummm, I know what it means, Sir."  
  
"Very well, would you care to share it with the rest of the class?"  
  
"To be perfectly honest, Sir...I don't think that's a good idea." Hermione had turned a few shades darker.  
  
"What is it?" Ron hissed to no one in particular.  
  
"I think I know..." Harry smiled, trying to suppress his laughter.  
  
"Miss Granger, I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want an answer!" Flitwick cheerfully replied. "Now go on, tell us all what it means."  
  
Hermione took in a deep breath.  
  
"It's an extremely powerful shrinking spell."  
  
Snickering erupted from all corners of the class, much to the Ravenclaws' and Professor Flitwick's confusion.  
  
"Thank you Miss Granger. You are correct. Five points to Gryffindor."  
  
Ron elbowed her in the ribs. "It's a shame Malfoy's missing this."  
  
"Malfoy isn't in Ravenclaw, you half-wit." Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes in return. "Still..."  
  
"Mr. Weasley?"  
  
Ron shot to attention.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
"I was asking if you would like to volunteer and ideas as to what we should be shrinking today?"  
  
Even Hermione couldn't hold back a chuckle at the set up.  
  
"Umm...*snicker*...maybe a...*chuckle*..." Hermione elbowed him. "How about a picture of you, Professor?"  
  
"A picture? Of me?" Professor Flitwick looked around the class, his cheeks slightly pink. "Oh, I don't know. I doubt that would make a very interesting lesson..."  
  
But before he could finish, every single student in Gryffindor shouted out.  
  
"Yes!" "You should do it!" "That'd be brilliant!" "Do you have any pictures?" "Can I have one?" "Oh, PLEASE!" "It would be GREAT!"  
  
Shocked by the sudden enthusiasm, but slightly touched at the same time, Professor Flitwick turned a bright shade of red.  
  
"Well, if you think..."  
  
There was a resounding YES.  
  
"Okay then!" He cheerfully bounded behind his desk. "I have a stockpile here for just such an occasion."  
  
As Flitwick ruffled through some papers, Hermione lightly punched Ron on the shoulder.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you!?"  
  
"WHAT?" Ron snickered. "Come off it. He doesn't know." He pointed to the clueless professor. "Look! He said he had a stockpile ready. C'mon! It's fate, that is. Don't you think, Harry?"  
  
But Harry just shook his head. He was too busy crying from laughing so hard.  
  
"Besides..." Ron wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe he'll sign 'em after class."  
  
Hermione looked indignant. "Really!" Then paused a moment.  
  
"Do you think he would?"  
  
~*~  
  
Lunch had already begun by the time Severus graced the Great Hall with his brooding presence. In one swift movement, he drew back his chair, sat down, and pulled himself forward - graceful, composed, with an edge of 'don't fuck with me right now.' To the majority of Hogwarts, this was his usual stance. However, to those who knew him well, IE - Dumbledore, he was stressed. Abnormally stressed. Which was a disturbing thought.  
  
Even more disturbing was the fact that Albus had no idea as to why his Potions Master was anxious. Yes, there was the incident earlier that morning, but Poppy had seen to the boy, and his injuries were minimal. No, there was something else. Something much darker bothering Severus...dark enough for him to lie to the one man he trusted. This would bother most people. Albus Dumbledore was not most people.  
  
Their relationship was something in and of itself - unconventional, unreal, and downright disturbing. It would frustrate most wizards to the point of using their own wand upon themselves. It was uncanny...they had this knack of speaking to each other, having a normal conversation - all the while; they knew what the other was really saying. Which was why it was so...unsettling to watch Severus lie. Surely he knew there was nothing he could keep from Dumbledore for very long.  
  
"Good afternoon, Professor."  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"Headmaster."  
  
"I take it your classes are going smoothly..." ~How is Draco?~  
  
A snort escaped his thinly pressed lips.  
  
"As smoothly as one can expect from overly hormonal students, Headmaster." ~He's fine~  
  
A twinkle danced in the old wizard's eyes.  
  
"Ah yes, a wondrous thing - youth." ~That's good to hear~  
  
"If by wondrous, you mean completely infuriating, then yes - I would have to agree with you." ~Yes~  
  
"Come now, Severus...surely they aren't THAT much trouble." ~What happened?~  
  
Snape gave the overly chipper Headmaster a look.  
  
~Don't ask~  
  
Dumbledore only smiled in return.  
  
"Almost impossible to imagine old wizards like ourselves as that young." ~Talk to me~  
  
"I was never that young." ~I cannot~  
  
"Your memory does you an injustice, Severus...as I can, and do remember." ~No, you simply will not~  
  
"I would like to think that I have absolutely nothing in common with these students, Albus. It is the only thing keeping me sane at this point." ~Things are...complicated~  
  
The aging wizard chuckled.  
  
"I do believe you aren't giving them enough credit." ~You trusted me for a time~  
  
"I do not 'give' them anything. They must earn it." ~I still do~  
  
"Are there none who've earned your esteem, Professor?" ~Then why?~  
  
Severus lowered his gaze along with his voice.  
  
"Draco Malfoy."  
  
Dumbledore took in a deep breath, and nodded.  
  
"Yes, yes...Draco certainly deserves your attention."  
  
And then there was silence.  
  
Surprisingly, it was Severus who spoke first.  
  
"Perhaps I ought to bring him his lunch." He snorted. "I highly doubt Crabe or Goyle have thought far enough ahead to foresee his inevitable hunger." ~I have to do this, you understand~  
  
"You've spent much of your time by his side already, Severus." Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile. "Why not let someone else take up the responsibility for Mr. Malfoy?" ~Yes, but you do not have to do it alone~  
  
Professor Snape gave him an odd look. Hesitantly, he replied.  
  
"Who else would do it, Albus?"  
  
Slowly, and with a hint of reverence (just to sicken the confused Professor beside him), Dumbledore looked to the Gryffindor Table.  
  
Severus began to laugh.  
  
"Interesting choice, Headmaster." ~You already knew, didn't you?~  
  
"Yes, well...he seemed the logical choice." ~Don't I always?~  
  
Severus doubtfully looked to his friend.  
  
"I...don't think he would." His dark eyes pleading with blue. ~Not of his own free will~  
  
The old wizard smiled warmly, but cautiously.  
  
"I believe he has already fallen into this role, Severus..." ~No, not of his own free will~  
  
Grief stricken, but too stubborn to show any sign of it, Severus turned back to his lunch. His appetite, gone. No, Potter had not entered this of his own free will. And if Severus were to go to hell for his actions, manipulating an ignorant Gryffindor would be the least of his faults. Nonetheless, it had to be done. And, much to his distaste, Potter was in fact - the only logical choice.  
  
"Severus?" He smiled. "Do give my regards to Mr. Potter, won't you?" ~Go, my friend. Do what you need to~  
  
Surprised, though he shouldn't have been, Professor Snape nodded.  
  
"You best hurry to tell him. He won't have much time." Dumbledore looked to the clock on the wall.  
  
Severus nodded again.  
  
~Thank you~  
  
~*~  
  
"Ron? What exactly am I supposed to do with these again?"  
  
Hermione held up a dozen pictures of Professor Flitwick - all signed and autographed by the man himself - now neatly shrunk down to wallet size. All of the Gryffindors had insisted he personalize them.  
  
"I don't know." Ron continued to chomp down on his turkey sandwich. "Wank off to 'em for all I care."  
  
"RON!" Hermione squealed, her face properly flushed. "Women do NOT 'wank off'!"  
  
Harry choked; bits of his sandwich flew out and onto the table.  
  
"Sure you do! Everyone does. Don't they, Harry?" Appallingly, Ron was taking this discussion seriously.  
  
"Best leave me out of this one, mate." Harry smiled. "I happen to value my life."  
  
"No, seriously though. Girls wank off." He said matter-of- factly. "I've read about it."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We most certainly do NOT."  
  
"Don't give me that. How else would you...well, you know...relieve yourself?"  
  
"We DO, how did you put it, 'relieve ourselves'..." Hermione's cheeks went red. "But we DON'T wank off! Honestly! We don't have anything to WANK!"  
  
"Then what do you do?" Harry looked to her curiously.  
  
Only then did Hermione realize how deep a hole she had just dug herself into.  
  
"Wepddleouselvs."  
  
"WHAT?" Both Harry and Ron questioned.  
  
"Wepddleouselvs."  
  
"You puddle your elves?"  
  
"We piddle ourselves!"  
  
Unfortunately, she had said this a bit too loud - as she could feel the rest of the table's eyes on her. Hermione kept her gaze down at her lunch. Only when a noticeable amount of time had passed with no one talking did she dare look up.  
  
The first thing she noticed was the look on Ron's face. Bug- eyed, slack-jawed, the whole 'deer in headlights' look. Then Harry - basically the same, but with a small grin tugging on the sides of his mouth. A whole minute passed before anyone said anything.  
  
"Piddle?"  
  
It was Ron.  
  
"Is that even a word?"  
  
Harry's contribution to the conversation.  
  
"Ooooooooh!" Hermione blew out the remaining air that had collected in her stomach. "I'm sorry I ever said anything."  
  
Harry started to chuckle, and surprisingly Ron didn't follow in suit. Instead, a serious look swept his dumb expression away. It was a look of awe. Almost as if he had just been told the secret location that held the key to the treasures of the universe.  
  
"Piddle." He said it with more certainty. "Yeah. That makes sense..."  
  
"Ron! Don't you dare make fun of me!" Hermione hit him.  
  
"No! I'm serious! It makes sense!" Ron made no attempt to back away. "Obviously, since you have nothing to wank, you'd have to piddle yourself." He shook his head in wonder. "I'm amazed I hadn't thought of it before."  
  
Harry was holding his sides by this point. He had developed a serious stomachache from the day's laughter. That didn't stop him from continuing, though.  
  
"It amazes me everyday that you have the capacity to think at all, Mr. Weasley." A sardonic voice called out from behind him. "Yet, it would appear you do - to some degree. I would imagine it takes at least a small amount of brain power to dress yourself every morning."  
  
Snape's presence snapped Ron out of his epiphany and tugged him back down to reality. Had he just said 'piddle' out loud? And did Snape hear him? Oh Merlin - what a day. Luckily, Hermione had the good sense to address their least favorite professor.  
  
"Is Draco alright, Professor?"  
  
Snape turned towards her, fighting the urge to sneer. "I had no idea you cared, Miss Granger." She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued on. "Mr. Malfoy is alive and well and unconscious in the Infirmary, if you must know. Which brings me to why I'm tolerating your presence to begin with." His eyes fell on Harry.  
  
~Meep~  
  
Severus smiled a cruel and devious smile.  
  
"I thought it might be a nice 'gesture' for you to bring Mr. Malfoy his lunch. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry just sat there, wide-eyed. Eventually, he gulped and nodded.  
  
"Good. Report to the kitchens and then to the Infirmary. And if I hear one grievance from Mr. Malfoy, I will make you pay within an inch of your life." Snape had managed to spit out the words as conversationally as he could. "Do we understand each other, Mr. Potter? Or do I need to draw you a picture?"  
  
Harry wasn't brilliant, but it didn't take a genius to read between the lines Snape had drawn. He knew. He knew Harry was responsible for what happened to his prized pupil. But, for some reason...he couldn't do anything about it. Or worse, he wasn't telling Dumbledore for some OTHER reason. A small shudder swept down his spine.  
  
"No. I understand."  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"Then why are you still here?"  
  
Quickly, Harry got out of his seat, grabbed his bag, and made for the kitchens.  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Yeah, okay...so I told you Harry was going to use his **suggestion** in this chapter. I lied! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but there were a whole lot of other things I had to get in this chap. *hits forehead* Anyway, I know it's not the best chap I've written. But there you go. I had to get SOMETHING out to the masses before an upheaval ensued.  
  
More is coming! I promise!!!  
  
  
  
Thom: *grins and winks at ya* You are SO famous! Are you doing your dance? Hehehehe You should be. You laughed AND cried? Fabulous. That was exactly what I was going for. *claps enthusiastically* Thank you AGAIN for reading!!!  
  
Icarus: Welcome back! *blushes madly* I am SO very sorry for assuming your sex, m'dear. Silly me. I shoulda known you were a girl! No GUY could write as well as you do. *nods lots* Yeah, don't ask about that whole "midgets and little people" comment...I have NO idea where it came from.  
  
Arch/Artist Writer: Thank you for your kind review! I'm SO glad you liked the sex scene... I was all nervous and stuff - thinking no one in their right mind would EVER like it. Glad you proved me wrong! Thanks again!  
  
Greenie: THANK YOU! *Grins MADLY* What a lovely review you left me! So sorry it took me so damn long to finally update. *shudders* But you know how the holidays are. Your kind words got me off my ass and writing again!!  
  
Tarathol: I'm evil and you LOVE it!!! Bwahahahaha! Oh...wait. You already said that. Damn. I'm glad you love the story! *grins* Makes my heart sing...  
  
Morri: Yes, yes I did. I had a veritable BLAST writing that chap. I'm feelin' pretty bad for Draco myself right about now. The trio will get theirs... Don't you worry. *evil grin* Thanks much, babe!  
  
Benny Boy: In your entire life?? WOW. *grins and blushes* Thank you!!! A comedic GENIUS you say?? *laughs at herself* WOW. I'm without words. Thank you Benny! Oh, and I hope you don't get TOO many weird looks from your counterparts. I'd hate for my work to alienate you from your peers. Heh  
  
My greatest f(r)an: *cackles madly* I was HOPING you'd find this funny, m'dear! I wrote half of it with you in mind, actually. Lol And yes, Draco's admissions hit Harry in more ways than one. Hopefully, I'll be able to put it into words in this next chap. Oh, to answer your question, there are a couple of reasons why Draco couldn't bring a girl to orgasm...you'll see. *cackles again* Thanks for reading! *Big Hug* 


	16. Chapter 16

Warning: Ah, bugger it. You know.  
  
A/N: If I wish hard enough, I may get a teensy bit of credit for a little bit of the plot...but I sure as hell am NOT getting paid for any of this! Lol  
  
Summary: After a brief, but informative, conversation with Dumbledore, Snape continues his plan of - (shhhh...it's a secret!) Hermione's just told Harry & Ron a bit too much info, and Harry's on his way to the Infirmary to give Malfoy...*shudder*... his lunch. Could this day get any longer!?!?!?!?!  
  
Thanks: Will be given at end of chap. *grins*  
  
Hey there and hello again you wonderful people you. How was everyone's holiday? Mine was - hectic. Hey, it's over now, so it's all good! Just a quick note/shameless plug : "The Greater Good, or the Lesser Evil" by LadyRhiyana is a FABULOUS story - and I would recommend you stop reading mine, and go read hers! It's now complete, and it's amazing.  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1000431  
  
And no, she didn't ask me to do that. lol  
  
~*~  
  
'Damnit Malfoy...'  
  
Harry cursed the blonde under his breath as he struggled down the corridor. Most everyone else was still at lunch, which he was most grateful for; Harry would rather have faced Voldemort bare-ass naked than be seen serving Malfoy his lunch - rather ungracefully at that.  
  
The Hogwarts' house elves had outdone themselves - not that any of them particularly liked Malfoy, but he was sick. And sick students needed substantially more food than 'well' ones, apparently. That, or Snape had a say in the menu. Regardless, Draco's tray was overflowing with delectable goodies - far more appealing than anyone else's' lunch that day. It did little to help Harry's mood, or balance for that matter.  
  
It was a struggle just to keep upright. Draco's tray of food was certainly heavy, but not as heavy as the bag that kept slipping off his shoulder and onto his arm. The sudden balance shift almost caused the tray to flip, forcing Harry to stop and re-adjust himself several times.  
  
'Stupid Malfoy...Stupid Snape...Stupid...'  
  
This would've been much easier had Snape allowed Ron or Hermione to come along.  
  
Ron...  
  
A small smile made its way to Harry's lips as he thought of his friend - providing a brief distraction from the humiliating situation he found himself in. It grew wider as he remembered the look on the redhead's face when he changed in front of him. A low chuckle escaped. It wasn't a nice thing to have done, and most would probably consider it cruel - but oh gods, was it funny.  
  
'I wonder if he's still having those dreams about me...'  
  
Dreams...  
  
The amulet!  
  
The day had been so chaotic, Harry had almost forgotten about it. A moment of panic struck him, causing his blood to run cold.  
  
Where was it?  
  
He stopped and wiggled his hips slightly, trying to feel if it was in his cloak pocket. No - not there. He had gotten ready for class in such a hurry that morning; he couldn't remember what he had done with it. Surely he left it in his room. Yes. That's where it was. In his room. On the bedside table, by the clock.  
  
A relieved sigh escaped him as he started walking again.  
  
How stupid he was...leaving it out in the open, like that. Not that anyone in his House would be likely to steal it, but Gryffindors were curious by nature. Questions would rise...  
  
'What is that?' 'Where did you get it?' 'What's it do?' 'Did you hear what happened to Malfoy?'  
  
Too many questions...  
  
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head softly. He would have to be more careful; especially after what happened to Malfoy...  
  
Draco.  
  
A small pang of guilt rang through his chest as he remembered the day's events, and the part he had played in all of it.  
  
'Stop thinking this. He would've done the same thing if HE had the amulet instead of you, so just stop. HE wouldn't feel bad.'  
  
Harry glanced down at the tray he was carrying, and he quickened his pace.  
  
'He deserved it. Remember that; he deserved it.'  
  
A forced smile spread across his lips as he turned the corner.  
  
He had reached the doors to the Infirmary, and had he not been so caught up in his own thoughts, he would've seen the small, but formidable group of Slytherin girls who had gathered.  
  
"Happy to be bringing Draco his lunch are we, Potter?" drawled Pansy Parkinson.  
  
"He looks a little TOO happy, if you ask me." Ebony Mordacity, another sixth-year Slytherin, raised a delicately trimmed eyebrow.  
  
Harry grimaced. "No one asked you. Excuse me..." He quickly walked past the girls and was almost to the doors before...  
  
"Wait! Don't go yet!"  
  
A small shudder made its way down Harry's spine at the shrill voice that called out behind him. It was a small wonder the 'Slytherin' population of the Wizarding World ever reproduced, he mused. 'I wonder how Malfoy puts up with it?'  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Pansy slithered up to him. "We were wondering..."  
  
"Since you're already going in..." Ebony joined her.  
  
"Do you suppose you could..."  
  
"...do us a favor?" The two girls grinned coyly.  
  
~wince~  
  
"I suppose," he sighed. "What do you..."  
  
"FABULOUS!" They chimed in unison. And before Harry could get another word in, he was bombarded - lost in a sea of silver and green estrogen.  
  
"Where can we...?" "There's no room..." "What about his mouth?" "Oooh! Good idea, Millicent!"  
  
Had Harry's arms not been otherwise occupied, he could've fended for himself. But alas, they were - so he stood there, defenseless, unable to block the hoard of delicately scented parchments that were suddenly, and violently, stuffed into his mouth.  
  
"Thank you so very much, Potty." An unknown voice cackled in the background.  
  
"Oh, do be a dear and not drool on them too much, would you?"  
  
Pansy made no attempt to hide her pleasure in seeing the Gryffindor Golden Boy, (now teetering under the weight of the tray, book-bag hanging off his elbow, and mouth stuffed full of Slytherin 'Get Well Cards'), glare daggers at her.  
  
It was moments like these that got her out of bed in the morning.  
  
"Mmphough"  
  
She couldn't decipher exactly what it was he said, but given the death stare he was wearing, she was sure it wasn't pleasant. Pansy smiled sweetly as she held the Infirmary door open.  
  
"There's a good lad."  
  
~*~  
  
"Owww..."  
  
Draco had given up on sleep exactly ten minutes after Snape left. Any effort appeared futile. Regardless of how he lay, and he had exhausted about every position he could think of, the ever-present throbbing would continue. The only arrangement that came close to working was on his stomach, but the fear of having his back exposed for too long prevented any real rest.  
  
Besides, sleeping on his face always resulted in pillowcase- induced wrinkles.  
  
So he sat, back up against the pillow, and read some of the Potions homework Snape had brought earlier. Truth-be-told, he wasn't that tired...but he had no desire to leave the Infirmary quite yet. And rushing headfirst into certain death was never one of his things.  
  
Death...  
  
The death of his reputation, his status; the death of whatever power he had over his House and its inhabitants; and worst of all, the death of his fear. Not HIS fear, per say, but the fear he instilled in others. How could anyone in their right mind fear him now?  
  
Before this morning, he was looked up to; he was the poster child for all that was powerful. His very name invoked terror in the hearts and souls of Mudbloods everywhere. He was a Malfoy.  
  
And now...  
  
He was human. He had fears. He had doubts. He had secrets. And now...the whole world knew them all. Blast it! If only Snape had been more liberal with his story, he would know them as well. He was a laughingstock, a blemish on the name 'Malfoy', and he hadn't a clue as to what he had said.  
  
Father...  
  
Word would have reached home by now. How would his father react? His mother? Draco inwardly winced at the thought. Surely they wouldn't disown him, not over a prank...but a prank at his expense?  
  
"Damnit..."  
  
Draco groaned and threw the Potions textbook down; his hands were trembling. Draco's sixth year was not supposed to be this way. HE was not supposed to be this way. He was not supposed to be cooped up in the school Infirmary, too afraid to leave on his own accord. When had his life become so foreign? What had he done, or better yet, what could he have done differently? His head swam with questions. Too many questions, and not enough answers.  
  
The sound of shrill laughter snapped Draco out of his self- induced trance.  
  
"Fucking hell, not Pansy..."  
  
Not ready to face the world, and nowhere near ready to face Pansy Parkinson and her troop, Draco flipped over onto his stomach and feigned sleep.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry staggered into the Infirmary, completely off-balance and nearly knocking Madam Pomfrey over in the process.  
  
"What in the...Merlin's beard, Mr. Potter?" The wide-eyed medi- witch gave him a once-over, only to have him answer with a pleading look.  
  
"Alifflehlfereplse!" Translated: 'A little help here, please!'  
  
"Ah, lunch. Good of you to bring it." Ignoring his mumbling, Madam Pomfrey nodded in Draco's direction. "Do try not to disturb him, he needs his rest." And in one quick motion, she turned back to her office, completely missing his frustrated glare.  
  
"Ilgvusmfphgtodstrb..." Translated: 'I'll give you something to disturb...'  
  
~*~  
  
Back in his bed, Draco was listening intently to the commotion just beyond earshot. The only two words that made any sense at all were 'Potter' and 'Lunch'.  
  
Still feigning sleep, Draco inwardly groaned and tried to disappear under the covers.  
  
'Fabulous...simply fabulous.'  
  
~Footsteps~  
  
'Prolly come to gloat, the bastard...'  
  
~Closer now~  
  
'Or perhaps, he's come to poison me...finish the job...though, that does sound appealing right about now...'  
  
"FWAGH!" (A/N: Author's interpretation of what someone spitting out a mouthful of paper sounds like.)  
  
Draco's internal bickering was cut short, due to the pile of mildly damp parchment that had elegantly landed on his face - causing a mean paper cut to form on his cheek.  
  
"Argh!" Forgetting sleep due to the 'wetness' of his face, Draco sat up violently, plucking off the drool-infested paper. "Bloody hell, Potter! What...what is all this?"  
  
"This," Harry dropped the tray onto Draco's lap, "is your lunch. And THIS," he spat out the remaining letter, "is your fan mail." With an exhausted sigh, Harry collapsed onto the chair beside Draco's bed.  
  
Draco made a face. "Why is my 'fan mail' covered in spit?"  
  
Harry only growled in response.  
  
"Well," Draco sat up, regaining his poise, "It's about time you got here." He paused a moment. "Why ARE you here?"  
  
"Snape." Harry gathered his things together. "Enjoy your lunch, Malfoy."  
  
He chuckled. "Of course."  
  
THIS was Snape's punishment for Potter...Snape being the judge and jury, leaving himself to be the executioner. A deliciously evil smirk made its way to Draco's lips. It was up to him, now.  
  
"The least you can do is keep me company, Potter." Malfoy drawled, his eyes piercing through the back of the Gryffindor's head. "You owe me that much."  
  
"I owe you?" Harry spun around, his last nerve spent. "I OWE you?"  
  
"Are you daft, Potter? Or have all those years of everyone singing your praises made you deaf? You-OWE-me."  
  
Harry scoffed, "Of all the nerve..."  
  
"We both know you're to blame for..." He gestured his surroundings. "...for THIS."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." The familiar twinge of guilt pulled inside Harry's chest, but he would be damned if he showed it.  
  
Draco laughed. "You play 'dumb' so well, Potter...I almost hate to ask you to stop."  
  
"You got what you deserved." It sounded so much better in his head, but when he actually said it, it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Malfoy.  
  
"What I deserved...?"  
  
"Yes." Harry interjected. "Yes, you deserved it..." his eyes skirted the floor. "Whether or not I did it isn't the..."  
  
"Unbelievable!" Draco stared at him, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "You self-centered, pompous little..."  
  
"Pot...Kettle...Black." Harry's voice had risen considerably.  
  
"I always knew beneath all that 'Gryffindor' armor you were a little coward, but to be completely devoid of ANY principle..."  
  
"You're one to talk to ME about honor, Malfoy."  
  
"You don't know the meaning of the word."  
  
"YOU wouldn't know an honorable action if it slapped you in the face! Which, I'm sure it has on many occasions."  
  
"At LEAST I have the courage of my convictions, Harry." Draco's words spat out so fast; neither boy realized he had actually called the other by his first name. "I don't hide behind anything! I AM what I say, and everyone knows it."  
  
"Yes, EVERYONE knows it." Harry's tone rivaled the ice that had collected in his veins. "At least, they do now..."  
  
"...thanks to you." The pain he felt was evident, and for the first time, Draco made no attempt to hide it.  
  
"I didn't see you lining up to take credit for my little 'accident' on Friday."  
  
Draco looked at him thoughtfully, the smirk still plastered securely on his face. "Yes, well...I don't suppose I had the chance, now did I?"  
  
Harry looked at Draco; Draco looked at Harry. A thousand comebacks lined up and ready to spit out - but they didn't. Instead, Harry lowered his gaze, along with his body, and sat down. It was the years of pent-up bitterness that had kept him arguing this long; he was surprised to find it already spent. Now, he was just tired. And by the look of him, it appeared Draco was too.  
  
"I guess this makes us even."  
  
The Slytherin looked at him spitefully. "We are FAR from even."  
  
Harry sighed, "Aren't you tired of this pissing contest?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What do you want from me, Malfoy? An apology? A truce? What?" He leaned back in his chair. "You must want something."  
  
"Don't presume to know what I want...besides, I believe I already offered you a truce, Potter." He smirked. "And you can see how well that turned out."  
  
Harry leaned forward. "WHEN did you ever offer me a truce?"  
  
Draco laughed, but not quite as bitterly as before. "Your memory is pathetic. It's a wonder you've passed any classes at 'all." He began picking at his lunch.  
  
Harry snorted. "That would be Hermione's doing."  
  
"Ah, yes...the Mudblood. Too smart for her own good."  
  
"Why do you call her that?"  
  
Draco looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Because that's what she is."  
  
Too tired to argue, Harry leaned back against the chair again.  
  
"What color is the sky in that evil world of yours, Malfoy?"  
  
"Purple."  
  
His answer caught Harry so off-guard, he let down the 'Gryffindor' wall and actually laughed.  
  
"What? You asked."  
  
Harry shook his head, his shoulders still bouncing from laughter.  
  
"Merlin, Potter...calm down. It wasn't that funny."  
  
"Why purple?"  
  
Draco shrugged. "Why not purple?"  
  
Harry considered it, and then nodded. "It suits you."  
  
"Everything suits me."  
  
"No. Not everything."  
  
Draco raised a challenging eyebrow. "Are you suggesting there's a color that wouldn't look good on me?"  
  
Harry countered with the opposite eyebrow. "Are you suggesting periwinkle blue WOULD look good on you?"  
  
The blonde leaned forward a bit. "Are you envisioning me in periwinkle blue?"  
  
Harry leaned in as well. "Are we really having this conversation?"  
  
"I think we are."  
  
"This day is getting scarier by the moment."  
  
"Tell me about it." Draco looked at him. "No, seriously. Tell me about it. If not you, then somebody - cause I can't remember a bloody thing."  
  
Harry chuckled softly. "Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Of course I don't want to know, Potter! But I have to! If I'm going to survive the rest of my collegiate experience in once piece, I'm going to need to know how to defend myself. THUS -" Draco rolled his eyes. "- I need to know what happened." He glared. "Not that you'd care."  
  
"You're right. I don't care. But why me?"  
  
"Why not you?"  
  
Harry was suddenly uncomfortable - whether it was from the honesty in Draco's words, or the look he was giving him, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, it sent shivers up his spine - causing him to shift in his seat.  
  
Draco's eyes widened. "Was it that bad?"  
  
"No! Well, yes, actually. I just...don't know where to start."  
  
Draco sighed. "I know that I started spouting off some very...odd statements...and that I jumped onto Snape's back after declaring my undying love for him...but that's about it. Professor Snape wasn't exactly proficient in divulging the details."  
  
"So you want to know exactly what it was you said?"  
  
"YES." Draco rolled his eyes again. "Didn't I just say that?"  
  
"And if I tell you, will we be even?"  
  
"Not even close."  
  
"Right." Harry took a deep breath. "The first thing you said was that you wet your bed till you were twelve."  
  
~silence~  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
~silence~  
  
"I really fucking hate you."  
  
~silence~  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
~*~  
  
Dinner that night came quicker than Draco had wanted it to. Madam Pomfrey had declared him fit enough to go back amongst the masses, but he lingered around a while longer. At first, he simply inquired about concussions and the signs that would indicate brain damage, and Poppy was more than happy to relay her knowledge on the subject - but she soon grew weary of his endless questioning, and she dismissed him to the Great Hall.  
  
Draco scolded himself as he made his way down the corridor; silently, he thanked the gods that his father hadn't been there to see his blatant display of cowardice. Draco was thankful his father hadn't seen quite a lot of things.  
  
Talking casually with Potter, for instance. What in Merlin's name possessed him to do that?  
  
'Blame it on the head injury.'  
  
A mild concussion forced him to exchange pleasantries with his arch nemesis. It was a good story, and it was necessary. Crabe and Goyle would've been little help in divulging the details of that morning, and Draco needed to know. The knowledge was crucial, not only for his own sanity, but for his safety.  
  
Calling the Noblest House in all of Hogwarts 'home' had its perks, and its downsides. Boldness and power were rewarded; cowardice and weakness were, well - exploited.  
  
'Damn you Potter...'  
  
That raven-haired bastard was the cause of all his grief and embarrassment - and when the time came, Draco would be more than happy to return the favor.  
  
But first, a healthy dose of damage control was in order.  
  
He had been running away from this all day, and it was time to face it. So what if the entire school knew his deepest secrets? Who's to say they're true? Nobody but Draco knew that for sure; well, perhaps Pansy knew a bit of it...  
  
'Stop thinking that! She doesn't know anything! No one knows a thing. It's all speculation at this point.'  
  
Draco stroked his battered ego back to health as he made his way closer to the Great Hall.  
  
'I can beat this. I can beat anything.'  
  
Slowly, his posture inched back up to its original poise.  
  
'I'm still Draco.'  
  
His stride gathered in strength and dignity.  
  
'I'm still a Malfoy.'  
  
The smirk returned rightfully home, and none too soon. Draco slicked back his hair, straightened his robes, and strode confidently into the Great Hall - head held high.  
  
~*~  
  
Quick note: I stole Harry's line "Pot...kettle...black." From someone! I just don't remember whom! So, if that was a line from your story, let me know! Or if you know whose story it was from...clue me in. I hate stealing things without giving credit to those who were creative enough to think them up on their own. lol  
  
Lyra: *grins* There is definitely something going on with Ron - hopefully it'll become more evident as the story moves along. And Harry's feelings for him? Hmmmmm...we shall see.  
  
ROGUE-sorceress: *laughs* I've snorted and giggled simultaneously MANY times before...lol That's probably the best physical response I could hope for in a reader! And yeah, the conversation between Snape & Dumbledore was pretty exhausting to write. But writing Dumbledore has always been a challenge for me...*sighs*...he's so - ELUSIVE! Lol  
  
Icarus: *blushes* You have my FULL blessings to use that conversation (or the idea at least). I'm flattered you liked it so much! And yes, PLEASE keep me updated on the 'Hagrids Hut' scene...*giggles madly*...I cannot wait! Feel free to make it as steamy as you want...the more steam, the better.  
  
Morri: *grins madly* Sorry it took me so damn long! And YES, please keep those vibes coming! They always help me get my arse in gear...  
  
Jekyll: *laughs loudly* I'm so glad someone picked up on that! Yeah, Harry's suggestions no longer have any hold in Draco's mind...and it's a shame too. What's worse? Harry doesn't realize it. *evil laughter* And hey, kick Snape once for me, too.  
  
Frannie: *laughs again as she reads yer e-mail/review* Yes, things are good again - as ff.net has blessedly decided to work FOR the public, as opposed to AGAINST it. *grins sardonically* But hey, thank you for being willing to go undercover for me! You're the BEST, Frannie. *big hug* And hey! Congratulations on finishing up 'Waiting for Draco'!!! Only one of the best stories I've ever read...*nudge nudge* 


	17. Chapter 17

Warning: Profanity, little bits of violence, gratuitous embarrassment, and SLASH! So watch out! If you're a parent, and you don't want your child to read this...turn back now!!!  
  
A/N: I, Moira McDuff, own NOTHING - I do not own nor do I claim to own ©Harry Potter, I am not getting paid for this story, and I don't need any lawyers harassing me for money I don't have. *nods*  
  
Authors note: Today, I just read the article in which Warner Bros.' Lawyers have 'eluded' that HP Slash-fiction may be inappropriate for minors, thus - all of it should be taken down. *shakes head sadly* What a world we live in. I could go on for pages about how I feel on this topic, but then my story would probably be taken down...*laughs* So, if you're wondering why my warning and A/N is a bit longer than usual...that's why. I just hope those lawyer know what they're getting into...cause we're not going down without a fight!!  
  
*Throws fist up into the air and tries to look menacing*  
  
Yeah...well, you know.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry lay on his bed lost in his own thoughts. The past few days had been, well, odd seemed an appropriate word. And as much as he didn't want to think about himself, or do any sort of deep introspection - the afternoon's events had raised so many warning flags, that it deemed necessary. Not only for his own sanity, as he felt it was slipping, but for his safety as well. There were so many questions...  
  
...and the majority of them involved one person.  
  
What was it exactly that had prompted him to offer a truce in the first place? Exhaustion? Boredom? Guilt? All of the above? Who knew...he sure as hell didn't. Half of him was relieved Draco hadn't accepted his offer, and the other half...disappointed? Angered? Frustrated? BAH! Nothing made any sense.  
  
A few days ago, everything made sense. Everything was clear - his role in life had been laid out for him by the Wizarding World, and even though he was more than a tad bitter about the whole arrangement, he could accept it. He could understand it. He was good; Draco was bad. Cut and dry. And now...  
  
...things were complicated. No more black and white - only shades of gray. The 'Golden Boy' of Gryffindor was acting and thinking more like a Slytherin every day. He had hurt, betrayed, and mislead people he cared about. His intentions were more than just 'playful', they were borderline malicious...and he was enjoying it.  
  
When had he changed so much that he couldn't even recognize himself?  
  
The obvious answer was lying on his chest, its gold and silver strands reflecting the late afternoon light, providing a cool comfort to his unsteady mind. But Harry wasn't concerned with the obvious - he was more concerned with the uneasy feeling in his stomach whenever he thought about...  
  
...the blonde Slytherin who was still, at the moment, lying in a hospital cot in the Infirmary. Another twinge of guilt tugged in his chest, and for once, Harry was grateful for it. Maybe he hadn't changed so much after all.  
  
He glanced over at the clock.  
  
5:25  
  
Only little more than a half hour till dinner, and the dorms were unusually quiet. Not that Harry minded, really...he needed the time to think.  
  
On a whim, he pulled out a piece of parchment and his quill and started a list.  
  
Things I like: Quidditch, Charms & Transfiguration, The Amulet, Pulling pranks, Ron's smile, ButterBeer, Exploding Snap, Hogsmeade, Chess, Halloween, Hermione's glare, Christmas...  
  
He sat back and looked it over. Besides 'The Amulet', everything else seemed normal. Nothing hugely different stuck out, and a relieved sigh escaped him. So he began another list.  
  
People I care about: Sirius, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Mom & Dad, Remus, Draco, Hagrid, McGonagal, Nearly Headless Nick, Seamus, Neville, Ginny, The Weasleys...  
  
"DRACO?"  
  
Harry's eyes snapped back to the place where he had written that...THAT name. Why the hell did he write Draco's name? And how did he somehow get in front of Hagrid? And WHEN did he start using Draco, er...Malfoy's first name? Immediately, he scratched it out.  
  
He didn't care about Malfoy...right?  
  
He couldn't. He just...couldn't. Not after everything they've been through - it just wouldn't make any sense. By all logic, he should hate the bastard. In all the time he's known Malfoy, never once had he proved redeemable...not that he really gave the slimy git a chance, but still. The only good thing about Malfoy was that he was such an easy target. Well, that, and he was true to himself. And he was powerful. And...  
  
"Damnit..."  
  
Harry crumpled up the parchment and threw it off the end of his bed.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron's chest felt as though it were about to explode, but he didn't care. He had been running around the school for the past half hour in a desperate search for Harry, and why he hadn't thought to look in the dormitories, the most obvious of places, he didn't know. Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn't time to think things through properly.  
  
This was huge. This was bigger than huge - it was amazingly huge, and it was all because of them.  
  
He managed a proud smirk between breaths.  
  
'Must find Harry...'  
  
He rounded the corner, skidding and on one leg, and sprinted the last few feet to the Gryffindor Portrait. Breathless, and in serious pain, he panted out the password.  
  
"Ph...Ph...Pixie sticks!"  
  
The painting swung open, and he darted inside. Jumping two steps at a time, Ron made it to the dormitories in record time. As he reached the door, he paused a moment to catch his breath - one hand against the cool stone wall, supporting most of his weight. The inside of the sixth-year's dorm was visible from where he stood, and for a moment, due to the stillness of the room, he didn't think Harry was there.  
  
And then he saw him.  
  
Shirtless, with his head bent back over the end of his bed, lay Harry - completely oblivious to Ron's gaping presence. His fingers lazily drew circles upon his chest; invisible figure eights formed upon his torso, and his fingers were not alone, it seemed. There, clasped between two fingers, was a chain...a necklace of some sort. Ron couldn't completely tell what it was; but in all truth, Harry's necklace was the furthest thing from his mind.  
  
The day had started out so good.  
  
Ever since he and Hermione's conversation, Ron had made a note of every time he thought of Harry in...THAT way. And he had done so well! Only once he had caught himself gazing a bit too long, and he quickly directed his attention elsewhere. He had started to believe that there really was nothing wrong with him, and that his dreams had been just that - dreams.  
  
Until now...  
  
Air was coming harder and harder to breathe in; it felt as though his chest had tightened considerably. Breath was almost painful, and it caught in his throat every time. His stomach, once grumbling from lack of sustenance, now felt - queasy, and fluttery. The knot that had formed in the pit of his stomach pulled, causing his knees to give out and buckle beneath him.  
  
Merlin, what was happening to him?  
  
Silently, Ron pulled back from the doorway and pressed himself against the wall. Air was coming easier now, and he took advantage - gulping in deep breaths - his chest overly extending itself. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something...anything...anything other than the boy that lay a few feet away.  
  
After mentally checking himself, Ron slowly crept back down the stairs and began running in place - making a bit more noise than he had a moment ago.  
  
"Harry! Hey, Harry!"  
  
He flew up the stairs, again, and rounded the corner into the dormitory. Mentally, he smiled to himself. It had worked - and Harry was up and looking at him curiously. Now all he had to do was keep the act up, and not let on...  
  
"Harry! Thank Merlin you're here! I've been looking all over the castle..."  
  
"What's wrong? Is everything alright?"  
  
"Everything's more than right! Everything's perfect!" Ron caught his breath and sat down across from his friend. "You're never going to guess what happened."  
  
"What?"  
  
"We made history."  
  
"What?!"  
  
Carefully, Ron checked the room. "Are we alone?"  
  
Without hesitation, Harry closed and locked the door and set a silencing spell. "We are now. Go on, what happened?"  
  
Grinning like the madman he was, Ron eagerly divulged the afternoon's events.  
  
"You know the prank we pulled on Malfoy? Well, apparently it had a huge effect on the rest of the school."  
  
Harry eyed him suspiciously. "How do you mean?"  
  
Ron spoke slowly, relishing in the dramatics, "Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and SLYTHERIN have united!"  
  
"United...?"  
  
"...against Malfoy!" The redhead was practically jumping out of his skin. "All the Houses, they've gotten together, formed some sort of truce for the day! Isn't it brilliant?!"  
  
"Truce...against Malfoy...what? I don't understand."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Gods, you can be so thick sometimes. Haven't you been listening?"  
  
"Yes, I've been listening...but you're not making any sense. What's Malfoy got to do with a truce?"  
  
"They're all ganging up on him! Ever since this morning in Potions, word got 'round - spread like wildfire - everyone wants a piece of him!"  
  
"What, like, exploit him?"  
  
"Exactly! Well, more like exploit the information he let out." Ron was grinning.  
  
A small smirk was beginning to form, causing the edges of Harry's lips to curl up.  
  
"I can understand three of the Houses, but Slytherin? Why would they...?"  
  
Ron looked at him thoughtfully, "I expect they're ashamed of him. He told all his dirty little secrets, put them to shame...bit of a disgrace in the Slytherin House now." He shook his head quickly, "But what does it matter? Everyone's in on it!"  
  
"Wow." Harry sat back and took it all in. "And we're responsible for this...alliance..."  
  
"Yeah! Brilliant, isn't it?" He smirked, mirroring Harry and leaned back as well. "It's going down at dinner, tonight."  
  
"What's going down?"  
  
"The rest of the prank!" Ron sighed, exasperated. As brilliant as Harry was, he really could be thick sometimes.  
  
"Lord, you mean they're going to do more to him?" His eyes grew wide. "He won't be expecting..."  
  
"...nope. He doesn't expect a thing." Ron rubbed his hands together.  
  
A wave of panic rushed through him, causing Harry's chest to tighten.  
  
"What are they going to do?" His voice cracked a bit, though Ron didn't notice. "I mean, what are...we...going to do?"  
  
"First," Ron lowered his voice and leaned forward, "There's a spell you need to memorize..."  
  
~*~  
  
The Great Hall was all a-buzz with anticipation by the time Harry & Ron made their appearance. The sight was almost inspiring, had the circumstances not been so unsettling. Red, blue, green and yellow, once segregated to their own tables, were now happily distributed amongst each other. Although, the Slytherins were hardly enthusiastic to meet and greet the other Houses, they still had smiles plastered on their faces. It was ironic, really - the alliance. For years, none of the Houses could get over their grudges to align against Voldemort...but Draco, now that was someone they could unite against.  
  
There was definitely something amiss, and the teachers weren't blind. Each of them had curious expressions, but none, save one, had any clue as to what was to come. Unfortunately, he was in little position to stop it.  
  
Hermione had saved them a seat at the Gryffindor table, and was waving them over hurriedly.  
  
"Get over here! He'll be here any moment." Her voice was low.  
  
The two quickly sat in their reserved places. Harry had been seated only a moment before an enthusiastic young Hufflepuff by the name of Gregory Plumb slapped him on the back.  
  
"Exciting, isn't it Harry? All of us here, together..."  
  
"Yeah...exciting." Harry forced a smile. But haven't we always been here, together?  
  
"This is going to be SO great..." Gregory bounced off, eager to share the joy with anyone who would listen to him.  
  
Ron sniggered and Hermione smacked him playfully. Harry sighed as he watched the two of them. Ron's delight was to be expected, but it was surprising to see Hermione so enthused about a prank of this magnitude, that broke who knew how many rules...even if Draco was on the receiving end.  
  
'Malfoy! His name's Malfoy!' He cursed himself silently. Why was he so paranoid about this? He hadn't been so uneasy this morning, and this was just an extension of that. Malfoy deserved whatever came to him...  
  
"How is this going to work, again?" Harry desperately tried to make sense of the situation, even though Ron had explained it five times already.  
  
"Harry! I've explained this five times already!" Ron shot him a look. "When Malfoy comes in, all of us - on Pansy's signal - will perform the spell we talked about earlier. You still remember it?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Right, then."  
  
Harry stabbed at his food for a few moments. "Won't we all get into trouble?"  
  
Surprisingly, it was Hermione who answered, "I had thought of that, too. But really, what could they do? If ALL of us perform the spell, which we all will as I understand it, then the Professors will have to take off an equal amount of points from each House. Thus, leaving everyone exactly where they were before - no one better or worse."  
  
"It's brilliant, really." Ron managed to speak through mouthfuls of food. "I'm surprised no one's thought of it before. Hey!" He nodded to the front of the Hall. "Zabini alert!"  
  
~*~  
  
Blaise Zabini had been staked out at the front of the Hall, trying to look inconspicuous while keeping an eye out for Draco. The majority of students had kept an eye on him, waiting for a sign that would alert them all to what was now known as "Draco Statum" - or - Dragon Status. It was corny, but everyone seemed to love it.  
  
A small voice called into Blaise's left ear and he put his hand up to it, blocking out the noise of the Hall. His partner in crime, Antonio Bastien, who was staked out just beyond the Infirmary, was reporting in.  
  
"The Dragon is in flight."  
  
Blaise smiled as he replied, "Affirmed. Fly home, Bastien." He turned to Pansy, who was awaiting his signal at the Slytherin table, and winked. She smiled, and nodded to Rebbekah Ronsum at the Ravenclaw table, who in turn nodded to Ron, who in turn nodded to Erik Armstrong at the Hufflepuff table. Though everything had been thrown together in a last-minute ditch effort, the four Houses worked together like a well-oiled machine.  
  
This was much, MUCH bigger than Harry could've imagined. It was huge. And he alone felt responsible for it. Sure, Ron & Hermione could take some credit, but ultimately it had been his idea. And this...all of this had sprung up and grown from the one seed he planted.  
  
Or was he being egocentric? Perhaps this was bound to have happened, regardless of his actions. Had he just been the catalyst? Maybe Malfoy had this coming a long time before Harry's quest for revenge...  
  
Regardless of who initiated it, everything had unfolded into this moment, and it was inspiring. Ron was right; this was a day that would go down in student history. The day they all united in a prank of cosmic proportions. It was a proud moment...so why did he suddenly feel sick to his stomach?  
  
A loud murmur echoed off the walls, and then it fell silent.  
  
Harry looked around at the faces of his fellow students. The Hufflepuffs were crouched down, their eyes barely lifted and aimed at the front doors. The Ravenclaws were simply sitting, acting casual - yet it was fairly obvious they were too looking towards the doors. His Gryffindors did little to hide the obvious amusement they were taking in the situation, and were leaning in to get a closer look. And the Slytherins...were stoic. Not moving, not even hinting an emotion. They sat rigid, with a look of distaste. And the ringleader, not surprisingly, was Pansy Parkinson - who looked seedily through slitted eyes at the front doors; Crabe and Goyle sat on either side, their expressions mirroring her own.  
  
Harry frantically looked to the Professors, searching for a sign, a clue, SOMETHING that would indicate their awareness of what was about to happen. But other than a few odd glances over the Hall, the majority of Professors were happily eating their dinner, blissfully unaware. He looked to Dumbledore...surely HE knew what was going on. Dumbledore always knew. But the old wizard's attentions were directed elsewhere.  
  
Harry followed Dumbledore's line of sight across the Head Table...past McGonagal...past Trelawney...before finally landing on...Snape. A pair of cold, merciless black eyes met his gaze - staring straight at him, staring right through him.  
  
Harry wanted to look away, but couldn't. He was locked there, unable to break contact with the Potions Master - whose eyes spoke to him. Deep in his mind, he heard his Professor's voice.  
  
~Do something~  
  
What? What can I do?  
  
~You can stop this~  
  
Harry forced his eyes closed and turned away. His head was spinning.  
  
I can't stop this. I don't even know if I want to...  
  
~If not you, then whom?~  
  
~*~  
  
There had been only a handful of times the Great Hall had been this silent. No one dared breathe, as their interruption might disrupt the whole plan. Only the occasional clang of a fork hitting a plate could be heard. It was the calm before the storm. A pin could've dropped.  
  
And then, in the distance, were footsteps. Faint, at first...then louder, growing in strength. Soon, it evolved into the all-too- familiar 'Malfoy' strut. It would only be seconds before he emerged into sight...  
  
Harry was running out of time.  
  
He looked to Ron, and then to Hermione. Both held the same expression - delight. Their eyes alight, full of playful mischief...mouths turned up ever so slightly...waiting. Waiting for their prey. Waiting for Draco. Had it only been a few days when that exact same look made his knees weak, and had sent his heart soaring? Were these the same people? Was he the same person?  
  
When had everything changed?  
  
His stomach churned and the bile rose in his throat. Something wasn't right. This morning, it was right...a day ago, a year ago...it was right...but now...  
  
It sickened him.  
  
He glanced up at the clock.  
  
6:03  
  
A microsecond later, he had made up his mind.  
  
"I can't do this..." He shot up, making to leave.  
  
A hand reached out and pulled him back down. "Wait!" Ron hissed at him, "Sit down! You'll ruin it!"  
  
Harry struggled to get his arm free. "Get off, Ron!" But the redhead's grip tightened along with his face.  
  
It was then that Pansy gave the signal.  
  
~*~  
  
Time slowed down.  
  
The next few seconds passed as though they were days, as Harry struggled to get free from his friend's grip. Vaguely, out of the corner of his ear, he heard a voice call out...  
  
"Decresco Perquam!"  
  
In reality, it wasn't one voice, but many voices, that had called out the familiar charm. An eerie blue light filled the room, and suddenly, Harry found himself free from Ron's clutches. Not because Ron had let go, but because his hand was suddenly too small to have much of a grip. Where a normal sixteen year old's hand had been, lay a tiny, miniaturized version.  
  
Harry snatched his arm away as he looked, in shock, at the small figure that sat before him. It was Ron, but it wasn't. Same red hair, same blue eyes - which were staring at him with such fury that Harry had to take a step back - same everything, except he was no more than a few feet high. In fact, EVERYONE had shrunken themselves.  
  
Everyone, that is, except him.  
  
He stood there, a giant amongst his miniaturized classmates, and HE was the one getting stares. It would've been funny, had Malfoy not waltzed into the Great Hall at that very moment.  
  
6:04  
  
~*~  
  
As Draco rounded the corner, a very odd sight, followed by an equally odd thought, greeted his arrival.  
  
'Why is the Hall completely empty?' He wasn't THAT late for dinner, was he?  
  
Ah...another prank at my expense.  
  
"Oh, Ha-HA...very clever. 'Let's all disappear, make Malfoy think we've left him...' Personally, I would have hoped for a more...creative approach. After this morning, I was expecting more than...THIS" He drawled on, baiting a 'seemingly' empty room, and started forward...but stopped mid-step. His brows furrowed.  
  
Something wasn't right.  
  
On reflex, like a deer leaving the safety of the woods, his survival instincts took over and he assessed his surroundings. He looked to the Head Table, only to be met by frightened and confused stares. And there, out of the corner of his eye, was Potter. Standing alone, looking at him with a mixture of horror and...regret?  
  
He opened his mouth to speak...  
  
...but was cut short by an irritatingly high voice to his left.  
  
"Hello, Draco..."  
  
He whipped around, only to find no one there. A small giggle emanating just below him captured his attention, and lowered his gaze. There, tugging at her curls and swaying like a bloody child, stood an amazingly ugly creature that looked astonishingly like Pansy...  
  
It giggled again. "Did you get my 'get well' card, Drakey?"  
  
Sweet mother of GOD...it was Pansy! But she was...she was...  
  
"A Midget?"  
  
"We prefer the term, 'little people', if you don't mind..." The sickeningly sweet voice called out.  
  
Suddenly, out of nowhere, came the rest of them. Hoards of 'little people' came swarming out from behind the tables...arms up, as if wanting to be held...giggling and shrieking with laughter...pointing...calling out his name...their little voices echoing throughout the hall...  
  
"What's the matter, Draco?"  
  
"Thought you liked 'em short!"  
  
He took a step back; eyes wide with terror and repulsion...their helium afflicted voices echoing in his mind.  
  
"What?...No!...Stop..."  
  
But they kept coming. Closer and closer they drew...screaming and laughing and pointing...and then, a booming voice called out, filling the Great Hall. Draco braved a sigh of relief, believing it was Snape coming to his rescue...only there was no rescue.  
  
It was his own voice.  
  
But it had been twisted, sped-up, and made to sound like a child...mirroring the evil child-like voices that now surrounded him.  
  
He had anticipated harassment, name calling, and the usual blows- to-the-ego that came along with embarrassment...but this...was unexpected.  
  
"I WET MY BED TILL I WAS TWLEVE."  
  
Whether it was - the upset of witnessing his House betray him, the shock of hearing his own voice call out the things no one was ever to know about, or the day's events combined - that caught him off guard, he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it had gotten the better of him, and he wasn't ready for it...  
  
"I'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO BRING A GIRL TO ORGASM."  
  
More insults were called out, but Draco couldn't hear them...they were a soft echo to the whirlwind of thoughts and curses now storming within his mind. In a tactical move of defense, he shut down.  
  
"I FIND MIDGETS AND LITTLE PEOPLE STRANGELY EROTIC."  
  
Everything had gone numb, and his mind reverted back to that of when he was a child...desperately trying to protect what was left of his sanity.  
  
"MY MOTHER ONCE CAUGHT ME WANKING OFF TO A PICTURE OF PROFESSOR FLITWICK..."  
  
'This isn't real. It couldn't be real. This isn't happening. I'm still knocked unconscious, lying in the Infirmary, asleep in my bed. This isn't real. This isn't happening.'  
  
"I...I'M AFRAID OF MY FATHER..."  
  
'...What?...' He opened his eyes and watched in torturous slow motion as the shrunken figures laughed...but he heard nothing...only his own thoughts, now random in their patterns. '...Harry forgot to mention that one...'  
  
Mouth agape, he turned to where Harry was still standing, that look of regret still plastered all over his face.  
  
'...Harry?...'  
  
Silver eyes desperately searched for green, but all he found was black. He had looked away.  
  
"I...I'M AFRAID OF MY FATHER..."  
  
'...please...'  
  
"I...I'M AFRAID OF MY FATHER..."  
  
Whether the pranksters had truly put his last words on repeat, he didn't know...but it was all he could hear. It was all that mattered. It was all he would ever amount to...a scared little boy, too afraid to face his demons alone...  
  
Alone.  
  
And he truly was. Alone, in the one moment he could admit he was weak. The one moment he allowed himself to seek out help...and no one came.  
  
Had Draco's tunnel vision not been focused on Harry, he would've seen Severus making his way over...but he didn't. Instead, he focused all his pain...all his fury, onto Potter. The boy prophesized to save the Wizarding World who couldn't...wouldn't come, not even now, to his aid...  
  
He closed his eyes as a soft chuckle escaped his parched lips, barely audible, unable to compete against the screaming laughter that was still echoing off the cold, stone walls of the Great Hall...  
  
~It was too much~  
  
Long, howling laughter sprung from his belly, wracking his body with its waves. It grew in strength and muscle, echoing out of his head and eerily into the Hall. It battled for dominance - and it won. The contending died as its creators retreated - a few transforming back into their original form...eyes wide...  
  
~It was just enough~  
  
Draco laughed as hard as his body would let him. Wild, fanatical laughter filled the Hall...and only after it had bounced back off the wall could the bitterness behind it be heard.  
  
~It was perfect~  
  
Students were popping back up, returning to their normal height, unable to believe the scene that was playing out before them. A few were backing up, tripping over the overturned benches...others stood transfixed, unable to blink.  
  
Pansy's eyes grew wide with terror and recognition. She quickly found her footing and scampered back behind some of the newly grown Slytherins, all of whom shared her fear - and rightly so.  
  
Even Severus had slowed his approach.  
  
It was at that moment Harry forced his eyes open, and finally saw what had stopped their laughter...what had caused their silence. He saw the black figure that had suddenly appeared.  
  
~oh gods~  
  
"Hello, Draco..."  
  
The young Slytherin, still chuckling, snapped out of his reverie just long enough to address the voice that had called out from behind him...  
  
"Hello, father..."  
  
...before fainting dead away.  
  
It was 6:06  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's note: This chapter took WAY too long to write. I don't know how many drafts I had...but you could ask Fran! She knows... *laughs* Anyway, I hope you liked it! I'm finally pleased with it.  
  
Thanks:  
  
Icarus: Yes, my sense of humor has a bit of an odd quirk to it...*laughs at herself* Glad you appreciate it! Hey, fabulous work on 'Hagrid's Hut', by the way...*wink wink, nudge nudge*  
  
Ben: Thank you hon! I'm glad you liked it. *grins* And in response to your question, girls 'piddle' themselves as opposed to 'wanking off'. I'd go into more detail, but I don't think you'd want that...and don't feel bad if you don't get it. *laughs* It's a bit of an inside joke that I had to put in there...  
  
Jekyll: *laughs her arse off* Yeah, kind of a scary thought, isn't it? Draco and Flitwick...*shudder* Your review cracked me up! And hey, thanks for kickin' Snape for me!  
  
Greenie: Thank you dearest! I know it's taking me an awfully long time to get Harry to say those magic words, but he will! I promise! *grins at ya* And yes, Draco is quite mad...well, he will be at least...*laughs maniacally*  
  
Tarathol: *laughs her arse off again* I always thought periwinkle blue was under-rated, myself...*chuckles* I can't begin to thank you for your review! It has to be one of the nicest I've ever received. Thank You!! *bows*  
  
Morri: *grins at ya* Well, if it makes you feel any better, I wrote the majority of this story in a sleepy state! *laughs* So no worries if the reviews are sleep-induced. I'm always diggin' yer vibes!  
  
Lyra: It's going to be a Harry/Draco fic...but there will be Harry/Ron parts...does that make any sense? *laughs* Hope that cleared some things up for ya!  
  
Franalamadingdong: *giggles at the new nickname she came up with* Don't read my story from the start!!! Please! I beg you! It's not as consistent as I'd like it to be...*pouts* But thank you for your loverly review and e-mail! I always look forward to 'em. Man, do you realize you've been my inspiration throughout this ENTIRE thing?!? Wow...I guess I just realized it. *sniff sniff* Are we having a moment? *laughs* Love ya babes! 


	18. Chapter 18

Warning: Violence, language, slash, everything your mother warned you about...

A/N: I do not, nor will I EVER claim to own © Harry Potter. That's J.K. Rowling's job.

Author's note: I don't even know how to say how sorry I am for taking so long. I hope you all still enjoy it, those of you who forgive me and keep reading. :)

P.S. As the fifth (and now sixth) book have come out – some of you might have questions. 1) Sirius is still alive. (I adore that man, and he will live on in this story!) 2) Harry is NOT taking any lessons from Snape. 3) Basically everyone who has been killed off is still alive. I've twisted this world around so it fits my personal taste...so...yes. I hope you all still enjoy it. On with the show! (...finally...)

* * *

"Hello, father..."

Draco's departing words did little to ease the tension from the absurdly horrific scene that had just played out. If anything, they only solidified everyone's fear: Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, was inside the Great Hall, a curious and cruel smile on his face...

"Hello, children..."

...and he had seen everything.

The aristocratic blonde briefly acknowledged the crumpled heap that lay just beneath him, before returning his attentions to the terrified students before him. The cold smile grew wider.

"I wasn't aware that my son was on the menu, this evening. Pity..." His eyes flitted over to Pansy, "...I would've brought a plate."

The entire Slytherin House took a step back and lowered their gaze, much to the surprise of the rest of the school.

It was then that Severus found his footing, and his voice.

"_Move_."

The waves parted.

Lucius smiled, tight-lipped, as he watched Severus approach. The distaste both felt for the other was clearly visible, almost tangible, and it grew in potency as their distance closed. Severus nodded. "Lucius."

"Impeccable timing, Professor..." He wasted no time, "Though a bit too late for Draco,wouldn't you think?"

Civility was such a curse at times.

He regarded Malfoy Senior with deadly subtle squint, a silent promise for a later time. After a nod of approval from Dumbledore, Severus muttered... "_Mobilicorpus_!"...and Draco, still unconscious, rose from the floor and hovered – awaiting direction. Severus moved in to guide the comatose boy towards the Infirmary, but his outstretched hand was slapped aside. Furious, his head whipped back and he found himself nose to nose with an equally furious Lucius Malfoy.

"_Don't_..._touch him_." Lucius' words spat out, saturated and dripping with contempt; it took all the strength Severus could will not to lash out.

Fire flashed behind the Potion Master's eyes. Raising his hands in a calculated motion, before clasping them together, he stepped aside.

Lucius muttered a low incantation, and both his hand and Draco began to glow a faint crimson. The two senior death eaters' gaze locked for a moment, a silent promise that more was to be said. And in a quick turn, Lucius whipped back his cloak and left the silent Hall, Draco following in tow...pulled by an invisible chain.

Severus didn't bother waiting for Dumbledore's approval before following after them.

* * *

The battle over patriarchal claim to young Draco was danced out in a matter of moments, too quick for most of Hogwarts to catch. Only the stillness of the air, laced with bitter resentment, would be proof enough that the battle had even occurred.

For a solid moment, the Hall remained silent after Draco's departure...only after the two sets of footsteps were out of range, did anyone dare breathe. A collective sigh of relief reverberated off the walls of the Great Hall, followed quickly by a few nervous chuckles.

They were short lived.

"Dinner...is over." McGonagall's icy words cut through the air like a knife. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to their dormitories. You will await further instruction as to your punishment there." Her eyes narrowed.

"NOW."

* * *

Harry trailed back, away from the mass of Gryffindors that were making their way back to the Portrait. He had searched briefly for Ron and Hermione when everyone was leaving the Great Hall, but his redheaded friend had made it quite clear that he did not want to be found. Ron was heading the troop, blue eyes blazing – pulling what appeared to be a concerned and confused Hermione behind him...obviously not too eager to talk to Harry.

It was for the best, he figured. As he wasn't quite sure as to what to tell them, even if they were willing to talk to him long enough to ask questions.

Harry was still in a state of shock; everything had happened so fast, he hadn't had time to think. Not that he was one to think in a crisis anyway. Following his gut reaction had kept him alive thus far, even though it wasn't always fail-safe. So why, exactly, had his gut told him to go against his friends for a boy that had never been anything but horrible to him? And why had that same gut prevented him from helping said boy when he obviously needed it?

The gut in question lurched, and a wave of nausea swept through his lean frame. Knees wobbling, Harry leaned against the wall and tried to force down the bile that was rising in the back of his throat. The evening's events had finally caught up with him, it would seem. He clenched his fists, furious, and willed away the cold sweat that was threatening to overtake.

'It wasn't supposed to be like this.'

He wasn't supposed to be like this. Shaking, confused, unable to make sense of his own actions. Not exactly appropriate behavior for one destined to save the wizarding world. Harry began to laugh at the thought, but quickly stopped due to the churning in his stomach.

'You're falling apart, old boy...'

The corridor had emptied by that point, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. Though, in reality, he had been alone with them for far longer than that. By choice, even. Ron and Hermione had been there; of course...the hurt look on Ron's face crept into his mind, and another knot pulled tight in his stomach. Harry had a feeling that particular image would be burned behind his eyes for quite some time. Betrayal on the purest level. It was odd, really...that expression on Ron's face...because of him. Because of what he did...rather, what he didn't do. Is that what the rest of his life was going to be like? Deceiving some to save others?

Instantly, another picture appeared in Harry's mind...one of silver blonde and deathly fear. He closed his eyes. Why did this have to be so complicated? There shouldn't be any question as to where his loyalties lie, and yet...there's Draco. Smarmy, evil, egocentric, selfish, malicious and all around not nice boy Draco Malfoy. Who, up until a few hours ago, had been his enemy. So, if he wasn't an enemy now...and he wasn't an ally...what in Merlin's name was he?

"He's a pain in my arse, that's what he is." Harry rubbed his temples in a slow, calculated fashion.

This had to be one of the least funny moments in his short history, so of course it made perfect sense for him to be laughing. Hoarse, rough laugher seeped from him as he airily began to speak to no one in particular.

"I, Harry Potter, am beginning to sympathize with the ONE person I despise more than myself. Hope you can understand." He chuckled at his own rantings, "Yes, you heard me correctly. Draco Malfoy, you've heard of him? The smug, selfish bastard who's made my life a living hell since first year? Yes, that's him. One and the same."

Harry leaned away from the wall, making his way back to the Portal, laughing.

* * *

Severus lingered behind Draco a few steps, silent in appearance...but if one was apt in reading body language, they could sense the rage that seeped from him. His steps were quick and precise, as if stepping on the wrong crack in the floor would mean his demise. His gaze remained fixated upon the unconscious boy; a cold, uncaring blanket, masking a deep-seeded and heartfelt concern.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Draco was supposed to be conscious for this meeting. He was supposed to have all five senses alert and responding. He was supposed to have his wits about him...not in a catatonic state. Not just having dealt with probably one of the most traumatic events of his young life. Not...like this. The Potions Master closed his eyes, briefly. How many times could he fail the boy before Draco finally lost all faith in him...?

"Draco always thought highly of you, Severus." Lucius' voice was always smooth and calculated...especially around those he despised. "Almost as if you were...a father figure to him." He chuckled quietly. "And after tonight's performance, I can almost see why."

The Potion Master's eyes narrowed slightly, never breaking from Draco's unconscious form. "To become a father figure, especially to one who has no father, is hardly a note-worthy feat."

Lucius kept his pace, amusement in his tone. "I believe you've been misinformed, Severus. After all, it was Draco himself who announced his undying respect for me this evening. One cannot respect something that does not exist."

"I wasn't aware fear and respect were one and the same."

"Oh, they are..." The aristocratic blonde rounded a corner. "...after all, both produce the same outcome..."

"A god complex?" Severus deadpanned.

"...Loyalty, actually." Lucius turned slowly, a well-worn smirk plastered on his face. "Not that you'd know anything about that particular trait."

Severus slowed to a stop, his stoic mask of indifference still in place. "If there's something you feel the need to say..."

"...I've said all I need to say..."

Severus chuckled darkly at that. "You've never been one of few words, Lucius. Don't start playing modest, now." He quirked an agitated eyebrow. "It doesn't suit you."

"And dancing doesn't suit you, Severus. Stop skirting the issue." A fire danced behind his gray eyes, turning them silver. "I know what you're doing."

Though his pulse had risen significantly, it didn't show.

"Do be good enough to enlighten me."

Lucius cocked his head in mock-thought. "And give away my edge?" He chuckled. "I'm not so new to this game, though you appear to hope so. Nor as blind..."

"The only thing I'd accuse you of being blind to, Lucius is your son."

"Don't presume to know MY son." Lucius took a step forward. "Being his Head of House does not give you leeway into his mind."

Their distance closed. "And you, being the ever-present father, of course know his every thought."

"Of course I do." A smug smile appeared. "I made them."

* * *

"Is that why I couldn't go through with the prank, you ask? Why, yes...I think that's partly it. See, dear ol' Draco and I have more in common than I first gave him credit for." He paused, allowing the air around him a moment to look confused. "We do! We really, truly do. Don't you see it? No? Well, let me explain..."

Harry rounded the corner, explaining his neurosis to himself.

"We both come from broken homes, from families who are, for all intents and purposes, dead to us. From those families, we both have fallen into a life that neither of us had chosen for ourselves." He paused, "Voldemort. We both have Voldemort at our heels, though – for different reasons." He counted his reasoning's on his fingers, half-paying attention to where he was walking.

"Expectations, birthright, horrid childhoods, loads of angst, father issues, fame..." He slowed to a stop.

"We...have a lot in common."

Harry hadn't counted on actually convincing himself of anything.

He sobered, the amusement gone from his face. All the similarities, there were too many to overlook as just a coincidence. Though, could he say that they meant anything more than just that? Similarities. Was that what was keeping him up at night? Was that why his stomach was turning itself into knots? Harry unconsciously began fiddling with the Amulet that lay within his cloak pocket.

He continued the rest of his journey in contemplative silence.

* * *

"Tell me, Lucius, what is YOUR son thinking at this very moment?"

"Not much, I would imagine...as he's currently lacking the capability for conscious thought." He paused, "I suppose I have you to thank for that."

The Potion's master inwardly winced at the words.

As though he could read Severus' thoughts, Lucius smiled coolly. "But, if he were conscious, I've no doubt in my mind he'd be concocting his retribution." The smile grew wider. "One that involves a great deal of pain and mental anguish, I expect."

"No doubt." Severus blinked from Draco back to Lucius. "You must be proud."

The trademark Malfoy smirk faltered for a moment, before reinstating itself. "I will be." He turned to Draco, a seemingly tender moment, had Severus not known his true motivations. "Very soon, I will be."

"Then perhaps it would be prudent if we continued our journey." Severus rolled his shoulders back, unconsciously shrugging of the tension that had started to collect. "I would hate to keep your pride waiting."

Lucius sneered as he regarded Severus through squinted eyes. There was another moment of silence. And then he turned away, resuming their original path.

Severus followed. "The Dark Lord would be most displeased if you were to overlook this meeting once more." An unseen smile graced his lips. "And if that happens, all the pride in the world won't save you." He paused, musing aloud. "I wonder what young Draco would think of that..."

Lucius was slightly less graceful in his walk at Severus' words, causing the Potion Master's posture to straighten significantly.

They continued in silence for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

Nothing was any clearer by the time he arrived at the Portrait, other than the fact that he really and truly was crazy, and it took a few inquiries from the Fat Lady before Harry was rousted out of his contemplations long enough to mutter the password.

"...Pixie Sticks."

The portal door swung open and Harry stepped in, not really sure what to expect on the other side, though not really thinking about it, either. His mind was still wrapped up in the day and all the realizations he'd unexpectedly come across.

Had he really been that dense as to not pick up on them before? Or maybe he had been so absorbed in hating the idea of Malfoy he never gave himself the chance to realize...and were his thoughts really that loud? Or was the common room just that quiet?

Harry lifted his head, coming eye to eye with the entire Gryffindor House...staring at him.

"..." He blinked. They were still there. "...Uh..." Harry looked around the room, not really sure if he wanted to make eye contact with anyone. Though, when his green gaze met piercing blue, his breath caught in his already dry throat...

"Ron..."

"If I could have your attention for a moment, please." Harry blinked again, turning towards the stern voice that had called out behind him. It was McGonagall, and if it were possible for her lips to thin out even more, she wouldn't have had any left. "Now."

As the Gryffindor House turned their attention from Harry to McGonagall, he winced, realizing how bad this looked. Harry, not participating in the prank...lingering behind...showing up just milliseconds before McGonagall...how bloody perfect. If Ron didn't kill him for betraying his trust, surely the rest of Gryffindor would have a bat at him for appearing to suck up to McGonagall. He took a few steps away from his Head of House – hoping it would convince the others that he didn't have any part of whatever what was to happen next. He would've laughed out loud again, as he'd done in the hallway minutes earlier, had McGonagall not chosen to speak just then.

"I cannot begin to disclose just how disappointed I am in this House." Her words were crisp and precise, and a handful of eyes that belonged to the first-years fluttered down. "As Gryffindors, and as students at this school, we are to set an example. Not only amongst the other Houses – but to the rest of the wizarding world. What happened tonight," her words faltered for half a second, "was a horrific display of both cowardice and ignorance – and it will not be tolerated." Her eyes scanned about the room, forcing even more gazes to lower and become suddenly engrossed in the cracks within the common room floor.

"The other Heads and I have come up with a suitable punishment, as they are undoubtedly telling their Houses right now." She paused, obviously having some difficulty with what she had to say. The room was holding its breath.

"Quidditch has been cancelled for the rest of term."

Her words were met with a roar of outrage and disbelief. Harry's voice was one of them.

"You can't do that!"

"It's Quidditch! It's our lifeblood!"

"But Professor..!"

"SILENCE!"

One could almost hear hearts breaking the room was so still.

"You have brought this upon yourselves, I'm afraid." Her words held a sadness that was only too true. "Now is not the time to be burning bridges amongst ourselves. Too much is at stake, and I can only hope that your extra time will allow you to think about what you have done." She made eye contact with the few eyes that were brave enough to remain fixed upon her. "And make sure it never, EVER happens again."

And with a final glance, she was gone.

Professor McGonagall had stepped through the portrait only moments before the murmuring began. Voices low and heated, Gryffindor house was in an uproar. Luckily for Harry, most of the eyes had fallen off of him and were redirected towards each other – lamenting in the most unexpected turn of events. Two pairs of eyes still remained, looking even more hurt and confused than before – if it were possible.

"Ron..." Harry took a step forward.

"Don't talk to me." The redhead had turned towards the stairs, leaving Hermione and the rest of his house in his wake.

"Ron, I'm sorry." He carried on behind him. "I didn't mean..."

"...To help Malfoy? To get us all into worse trouble?" Ron still hadn't turned around. "To leave me looking like a fool? Is that what you didn't mean?" His speed doubled as he winded up the stairs.

"Ron..." Hermione's voice called out behind them.

"Actually, technically I didn't help him..." He took two steps at a time

"No, you just stood there like an idiot." Ron took three.

"Ron, slow down!"

Harry raced behind him, almost nipping at his heels. "I don't know what happened, okay?" And honestly, he didn't. "Something about it just wasn't right...I should've told you sooner..."

"Bit late for that now, isn't it?" The redhead rounded the corner, making his way into the boys' dormitories.

"Now you're not being fair." Hermione had caught up, panting slightly. "If you'd just let him explain..."

"What, you're on his side now?" He rounded on her, plowing past Harry...a finger in her face. "If I recall correctly, you were just as excited about this as I was. As we all were!" Harry had to take a step back from the overly dramatic gesture.

"Stop being so dramatic. I'm not on anyone's side, Ron. I just want you to listen to what he has to say..." Remaining calm, Hermione switched her gaze from Ron to Harry. "Right then, what happened?"

Harry opened his mouth, prepared to explain everything...only to have his mouth go dry once more. "I..." He closed his eyes, daring himself to repeat the same soliloquy he'd previously rehearsed in the hallway, knowing full well they'd never understand it. Feeling both pair of eyes still on him, "It's complicated."

"Story of your life."

"Ron!" Hermione batted his arm. "We're never going to find out if you keep interrupting."

"Well, he's not saying anything, Hermione!" Another gesture towards Harry.

"Perhaps he would if only you'd shut your trap for a nanosecond!"

"It felt wrong, okay?" Harry's voice echoed over the two of them. "I didn't go through with the "prank of the century" because I FELT BAD about it." He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers knotting around the ends. "Everything happened so fast...earlier, when you came to me about it, I should've...but I didn't...and I don't even know why it was different, but it was, because Draco was different...and then dinner came..." He was looking around at everything in the staircase, trying to force some sense into his words. "I didn't have time to think so I just reacted and I'm sorry that it pissed you off so much, but..." He paused. "It didn't have anything to do with you," his eyes flittered over to Ron. "Either of you."

A beat.

"Well, that clears that up." Ron clapped his hands together, earning an eye roll from Harry.

"I told you I didn't know why!" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you making such a huge deal out of this? So I chickened out! Nothing changed! Draco still got humiliated in front of the entire school..."

"Malfoy."

"What?"

"Malfoy. His name is Malfoy."

"That's what I said!"

"No, Harry...you said Draco." Ron started to laugh. "What the hell happened in the infirmary that you could say that bastard's first name TWICE and not even notice?"

He shrugged off the accusation. "Nothing happened in the Infirmary."

"Did you talk to him?" Hermione rejoined the conversation.

Harry stammered a little, "We insulted each other like we normally do," He looked to the two of them. "Look, it doesn't even matter what was said."

"Why are you getting so defensive?"

"I'm not getting defensive."

"_Yes_, you are."

"_No_, I'm not."

"Methinks thou dost protest too much," quoted Ron in a sing-songy voice.

"Why does it matter that I talked with him?"

"Oh, so now it's 'with' him and not 'to' him?"

"Okay YES, I talked with him." Harry's voice raised a notch. "We bonded. We had a moment. I shared my life story with him and he shared his raspberry truffle with me. We cried and exchanged hugs at the end of it, is that what you want to hear?"

"No, but it's probably the closest thing to the truth we've heard all night."

"You know what? Fine..." Harry went right past Ron and into the boy's dormitories. "I'm wasting my breath..."

"And I'm done with this conversation." Ron followed in suit. Harry grabbed his pillow, blanket and a few of his belongings and stormed right back out of the room.

"Good."

"Good."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Hey, give my best to Draco..."

SLAM!

Harry could hear Ron yelling from behind the door, "After all, we both know that's where you're going!"

* * *

Hermione finally caught up with Harry not far from the Gryffindor Portrait.

"Harry..." He showed no signs of slowing. "Harry hold on."

"Not now, Hermione. Please." Exhausted, confused and entirely too pissed at the world, now was not the time for a Hermione lecture.

She followed in suit. "Why are you boys so completely against the idea of someone trying to help you?"

"Because we're stubborn, brainless gits who won't realize anything unless it's violently beaten into us." He rounded a corner.

"Well, yes that's true, actually," she grinned. "But not the point. If you want to salvage anything from tonight then you will stop right now and listen to me." She'd stopped and he'd slowed. "Please, Harry."

Another two steps and he'd stopped, inhaled and turned. "What is it, Hermione?"

She softened. "You need to know something."

"I need to know a lot of things." Exasperated, he slumped against the nearest wall. "It's been a really long day, nothing's making any sort of sense and I've argued my way out of sleeping in my own bed so if you don't mind..." Harry slid the rest of the way down to the floor. "If you've got something to say, please just say it."

"I'm not mad at you."

A tired laugh escaped. "Thank you for that."

"But Ron is." She drew closer. "And you should know why."

"Oh, I think I've got a pretty good idea why." He looked up at her, "Didn't you hear him up there?"

Kneeling down, Hermione rested her chin on her knee. "Yes, but I don't think you did. Not entirely, anyway."

"What? The entire common room heard him!" Banging his head lightly against the wall. "He made sure of that..."

She rolled her eyes, "Honestly, you boys need to start learning how to read between the lines. I'm not always going to be there to translate for you."

He shook his head, "Mione, please...enough with the cryptics..."

"Fine." She breathed, "You made a choice tonight. Not about the prank, but more on a fundamental level." She hugged her knees to her chest.

"Yes, I know...I know. I picked Malfoy over Ron."

"No Harry, you picked your worst enemy over your best friend." She emphasized the last two words, trying to make her point in as few syllables as possible.

Harry looked at her, a small recognition in his eyes. "Well, yeah...I mean, I did. But I didn't." He paused. "He's not my worst enemy."

Neither Harry nor Hermione could believe the words had come out of his mouth.

She stared at him. "What?"

"He's...not my worst enemy. I don't know." Harry got to his feet. "Things changed."

She stood, disbelief in her eyes. "Harry, do you hear yourself?"

"He's not my friend, either. I don't...know what he is."

"He's the same horrible person that's made Ron's family's life a living hell. The Weasley's, Harry. Your surrogate family. The people who've taken you in every summer and who treat you like one of their own."

"I know who they are, Hermione."

"The same boy who calls me a mudblood. Whose father has all but made blatant threats about my family." A quiet anger flowed from her. "The boy who wouldn't blink an eye if I wound up dead in a Death Eater ceremony, Harry. This is who we're talking about!"

"Don't you think I know what he's done, Hermione?"

"Then why are you defending him?"

"I'm not! I'm just saying..." He paced the hallway, his head in his hands. "I'm finding more and more of myself in him, that's all. I'm starting to relate..." His words died out quietly.

She stood there, a dumbfounded expression upon her face. "I see."

"Hermione." Harry closed his eyes, mentally punching himself in the gut. "Hermione, I didn't mean it the way it sounded..." But she had already turned to leave.

"I need to go."

"I'm sorry..."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Harry."

She was already halfway down the hall and Harry still couldn't think of anything to say.

"Hermione..."

But she was gone. He stood there staring into the empty hallway, her footsteps echoing in the distance. Minutes passed, he wasn't sure how many. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry balled up his fists, collected his things, and did the only thing that made any sort of sense.

He went to the infirmary.

It was 8:30

* * *

The only light illuminating the infirmary sat on Draco's bedside table, casting a soft glow upon the still unconscious boy. Though the back of his head would still be sore from earlier in the day, he showed no other sign of physical injury. However, the mental injury, which was what she was more concerned about, would only be evident when he regained consciousness. And even then...her aged lips pursed with pity at the thought. They might never know just how much damage was done tonight.

Madam Pomfrey glanced towards the two men that lingered near the doorway, still quiet in their heated discussion, taking sure steps to guarantee she didn't hear a word of it. Never having particularly liked the Malfoy family, it still pained her to see one of the students go through so much in one day. This was one of the few times Lucius Malfoy was entitled to carry on in furious tones, she could only wonder just what he had in store for the school...and young Draco for that matter. Another swell of pity directed her hand to his bandaged forehead once more, lightly dabbing the sweat from his brow.

Feeling pity for a Malfoy. Would wonders never cease?

With a soft huff, she quietly removed her supplies and her presence from his side.The soft click clacking of shoes broke the sterile silence that had overtaken the infirmary. The hushed conversation slowed to a halt as Madam Pomfrey made her way towards the two wizards – both looking equally tired.

"You may see him how." The aged medi-witch gestured towards Draco, "But I must insist that you do not attempt to wake him."

Lucius' impatience was finally showing. "Though your recommendations are appreciated, Madam Pomfrey," as his well worn smile was finally waning, "I hardly think they are necessary. Draco is my son and I shall speak to him as I wish."

Her gaze matched his own. "I really must insist, Mr. Malfoy. For the good of your son..."

"I will ask you once more not to assume you know what's best for my son," he spoke through slitted teeth. "I have been through enough grief tonight trying to simply talk to my own offspring without the likes of you interfering this far into the evening. You've done your job." He brushed past her. "Good night to you."

Severus stopped her in her tracks. "Poppy," he whispered. She looked up at the professor, appearing more worn than she'd ever seen him. She nodded.

"Promise me you..."

"I'm not leaving." His hand squeezed lightly on her shoulder, and it was all that she needed. The medi witch took one final look as she left the room, and a small shudder ran down her spine.

Lucius Malfoy was hunched over his son, not unlike a vulture ready to feed.

Fiddling with her apron, Madam Pomfrey left the infirmary...a feeling of dread fresh in her belly. It would be a while before she found sleep that night.

* * *


End file.
